


Of Lilies and Silver Linings

by Hansine



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Modern Royalty, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-03-03 03:26:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 72,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13332480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hansine/pseuds/Hansine
Summary: It was supposed to be a dream come true, the one where she was the princess in beautiful dress and sparkling tiaras, smiling beside her prince charming. But she couldn’t find it in herself to be happy.He had fallen in love with her at first sight, the prince who would whisk her away to a land of gold and gossamer, who wanted nothing more than to wipe the tears from her eyes and bring a smile to her face.Chrobin.Arranged Marriage AU. Modern Royalty AU.





	1. Love and Duty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do a more serious piece, binge-watched Victoria and The Crown, and I keep getting excited whenever I see Prince Harry and Meghan Markle news. So here we are with yet another Chrobin AU but where I can indulge in my interest in politics and monarchies.

She looked at herself in the mirror, glum. It would be the understatement of the year to say she looked and felt like a trussed chicken, though at least her bustier was done up with those satin covered buttons and loop closures instead of being drawn tight with ribbons and someone’s foot against her back for leverage. And she was wearing a stunning dress, one she’d die just trying to save enough money for if her future husband’s family didn’t step in and pay for, well, everything. She felt grateful for her lot in life, better than most to say the least, but she couldn’t muster the strength to feel happy. Instead, she felt sad and resigned to her fate, even if she was starting the rest of her life bedecked in crystals and tulle.

 

The sweetheart neckline of her dress hugged her curves perfectly, the crystals handsewn and patterned to look like starbursts. The back of it dipped low, stopping about a handprint away from her shoulder blades. Her skirt was big and poofy like a ball gown, layers upon layers of tulle used to build opacity and volume, the hem of each layer folded under to add visual texture to the dress. Her future parents-in-law gave her a tiara to wear, designed to look like angel wings spread out and bedecked in diamonds. The veil would come later, an heirloom silk tulle with alençon lace accents, draped across her face and her shoulders, secured to her hair with simple diamond pins. She should be happy, it was the spring wedding of her dreams, but she couldn’t bring herself to be.

 

“Ah, don’t frown ma cherie. The makeup will crease,” chided the artist gently, pressing a damp sponge topped with translucent powder under her eyes. He pointed up, indicating where she should look, setting the makeup expertly. “Why are you sad? You look much too beautiful to be sad.”

 

“I’m just thinking about my mother,” she lied, a half-smile on her face, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes. “I won’t just be her daughter anymore after a few hours.”

 

“Ah yes, that kind of sadness. Melancholy is what you call it?” He picked up blush and an angled brush, sweeping peachy pink across her cheeks. “You have beautiful cheekbones ma cherie. Like a bird.” He drew a genuine smile out of her with that. “Oh, what’s this? A smile?” His lips curled up kindly, setting down the powder and brush as he tilted her head just so to inspect it from different angles.

 

“Funny you should say that. My mother said she named me Robin because she always thought I looked like a little bird, even as a baby.”

 

“She was right you know. Your bone structure is delicate but defined. No wonder this is the dress they chose for you. Look, see your collar bones.” He waved his hand over her neck. “And your shoulder blades.” He pulled her shoulders back just so, the scapula jutting out beautifully as a result. “Pretty babies the pair of you will have, I believe, if you don’t mind me saying ma cherie.” Stranger as he was, and perhaps a little too blunt, it was odd she found his way of talking soothing. Even if all they were talking about was her physical appearance, how prized she was with her unusually fair skin beautifully dotted with freckles, her deep cinnamon-chocolate eyes that flashed with mischief, her pale blonde hair braided into a fishtail and styled into a low, but full, bun by her nape.

 

“Thank you,” was all she managed to whisper, opening her mouth slightly as he swiped a strawberry red lipstick on, taking care to follow the contours of her mouth. He pulled back to inspect his handiwork: lightly bronzed face for a sunkissed look, a champagne and plum smoky eye, her delicate and full lashes blackened and curled to perfection, flushed cheeks perfect for a blushing bride, glossy red lips for a just bitten look. He smiled, proud of what was likely to be his most popular work yet, the one brides after her would all pine for. He had Robin close her eyes, picking up a setting spray and spritzing it liberally on her face, fanning it dry once applied. “Done?” Her voice was soft, hands trembling on her lap. He was about to reply when the door opened, an imposing, but not unkind, presence entering the room.

 

“Ah, Your Majesty.” He bowed, stepping aside to let the king walk up to his future daughter-in-law. “We just finished.” The makeup artist started to pack away his things, head dipped low as he moved about.

 

“Excellent. You have done a wonderful job, Jean.” He nodded his head in acknowledgement, putting a hand on Robin’s bare shoulder. “Nervous?”

 

“To say the least.” She laughed softly, ducking her head. She was thankful for what seemed to be kind in-laws, even if her every move was going to be scrutinized from here on out. She didn’t even know why she was chosen. She was a nobody, just a commoner who grew up with her strong-willed, hard headed mother who deserved everything in the world. But, somehow, she was the perfect match for his son, so here she was, about to marry him.

 

“Come along, they’re all waiting.” He dropped his hand from her shoulder and extended it, supporting her as she wobbled slightly on her heels, the satin cover of the round toe box peeking out slightly from her skirts. “He’s waiting.”

 

“Yes, Father.” She curtsied, a warm smile reaching his lips as he felt her fingers curl tightly around his hand. She glanced towards Jean and nodded her thanks, the redhead smiling encouragingly in return. Unhappy as she was being forced into this marriage, she knew her place and her duty and thanked her lucky stars once more. If her marriage wasn’t going to be based on love, it could at least based on friendship, if her few encounters with the king’s son were anything to go by. After all, in a few hours, she would be walking out of the chapel of Ylisstol Castle as Robin, Princess of Ylisstol and Duchess of Athene, wife of the Crown Prince of Ylisse.

 

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He was the dutiful son, next in line to the throne despite having an older sister. He tightened the Eldredge knot closer to his collar, adjusting it to fall straight over the buttons of his dress shirt, the crisp white of it peeking slightly out of his suit jacket, the diamond cufflinks twinkling. The deep navy of his matching three piece suit brought out the blue in his eyes and hair, the sheen of his silk heather gray tie and pocket square bringing a brightness to his appearance. He met his future wife a few times and it was more than he expected, magical almost despite the sadness in her eyes. He wanted to reach out and brush the tears away, pull her close against him and kiss her eyelids (he was sure that she was a little bit ticklish there) until she laughed, begging him to stop because others might see. He’d shrug off her complaints and continue to kiss her, laughing along as he teased. But no, he couldn’t even do that but he thanked whoever decided that he should marry now chose her. He looked just past the open chapel doors, the center aisle decorated with all sorts of delicately arranged flowers, the pews filled with excited guests. A nervous energy buzzed low beneath everyone’s skin.

 

He would enter first, alone, his last steps as an unwedded man. The rings were already at the altar, glimmering lowly in the sunlight. His mother would follow, walking up to him and kissing him on his cheeks before taking her seat in the first pew behind him, to the right. His older sister and her husband would follow, their little girl in tow. Emmeryn would do the same as her mother, her husband shaking his hand firmly before they moved aside. Their daughter was likely to demand a hug, receiving one with a laugh and a delicate kiss to the cheek before sending her off to follow her parents. Lissa would be last among his family because she was the youngest, spry and with a spring in her step but somehow a little bit restrained. Her mother would walk the long aisle after Lissa, approaching him with a kind smile on her face as he embraced her, promising to take care of her daughter the rest of their days. She’d nod knowingly, pulling away and moving to the first pew behind him but to the left. Everyone would stand afterwards, his father escorting his bride, arm in arm, that walk from the entrance to the chapel to standing before the priest probably the longest wait of his life.

 

“Were you nervous, when you got married?” He glanced sideways at his mother, stretching out his arms as he adjusted his cufflinks. Arranged marriages were commonplace, his father and sister before him having met their spouses in a similar fashion. Theirs, however, was an unusual story. They were both smitten early in the engagement, sneaking away for innocent moments together before their own marriages a few months later. Preserving the bloodline of the royal family they said, for the further improvement of its stock they said. His own was more the typical, but still slightly unusual. He had been drawn to her since their first meeting, the pull inexplicable. Maybe it was the melancholy in her eyes and how he longed to replace it with joy, he wasn’t really sure. “She seems sad, more than anything.”

 

“I understand how she must feel, thrust into a marriage she never thought she was going to be a part of.” Sofia placed her hand on Chrom’s shoulder, glancing in at the slowly filling chapel. The guests were murmuring to themselves, the collective sound loud in their ears. “How long has it been since you first met, a few months? Give her time. She had a very private life before this and now she’s been thrust into the public eye without so much as a warning except that she’d been chosen to be your wife. I would like to think it’s not you that’s making her feel this way but the situation. I always had a small crush on your father, don’t tell him this it’ll stroke his ego even more, so I was over the moon to find out he was everything I dreamed of and more, but I don’t think it’s the same for Robin. She never really knew much about you until the day you two met.”

 

“I suppose.” Chrom slumped his shoulders, earning a sharp rap in between his shoulder blades. He stood tall, his posture impeccable, as he had been trained to stand all his life. “Why do this anyway, arranged marriages? We’re lucky it’s worked out for the past few generations but it’s not always been that way.” He glanced to the paintings behind him, of somber looking ancestors and their spouses. There were bastards in their line, unacknowledged, the children born out of wedlock because of unhappy marriages. Not to say that wedding someone of their own choice would guarantee success in this aspect but surely it would increase the likelihood?

 

“We count ourselves lucky then, and pray that you and your wife will find the same happiness,” Sofia replied softly, her eyes misting slightly. “But as to why, perhaps it’s to assure the longevity of the royal family.” Chrom winced at her words, a grain of truth to them. “And to improve the line where they can.” Everyone involved in securing a match, especially for the heir to the throne, weren’t a strict proponent of eugenics but since marriages were going to be arranged anyway, it was an additional ‘perk’ to the process. It wasn’t so much about political alliances and advantages anyway. Those were made through treaties nowadays, not marrying into families, the power of the monarchy much reduced since the time of the founders of their House. Sofia glanced at the clock, putting her hand on Chrom’s shoulder afterwards. “Better get ready now. It’s almost time.”

 

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Robin sunk to her seat tiredly, a smile still on her lips because she had to have one, even with the fatigue. She felt so out of place but assumed this was one of the last times she could let it be seen. She could always use being overwhelmed by the wedding as an excuse, even if the ceremony itself was only small affair, limited to family members, a few friends, some nobles, and important members of Parliament. She didn’t remember much, except that her knees felt weak as she walked down the aisle, everyone’s eyes trained on her. She was lucky her arm was linked with Sirius’, the king looking down kindly at her as he patted the back of her hand, leading her all the way up to the altar and handing her off to his son. She had to admit she was really lucky, that seeing the future that lay before her included a man with features sharp and soft at the same time, a warm smile, and kind eyes. Her hand was shaking when she took his but the light squeeze he gave it seemed to settle her nerves.

 

“Want some dessert?” Chrom sat down beside her, balancing two plates of food in his hands as he set them down before them. She looked at him with an appreciative smile, letting her hands rest against the artfully and appropriately placed silverware, the two rings on her finger catching the light. Her engagement ring he had fashioned out of jewels from his mother’s personal collection, a sparkling diamond in the center of a white gold band, burnished to accentuate the shine of the gems, two smaller light blue sapphires on either side, and two even smaller purple sapphires at the outermost edge with a trellis setting. He always said he liked seeing her in purple, that she exuded the grace of royalty effortlessly, and the blue sapphires represented his colors. Their wedding band was simpler, white gold as well with a twist in the center like a love knot, their names engraved on the inside of each other’s ring.

 

“Yes please.” She looked at the assortment of food on her plate: a piece of the croquembouche she fancied when they visited the bakery commissioned for the desserts, strawberry trifle set in a martini glass, raspberry pavlova, butter cake glazed with some sort of alcohol-based sauce. Robin turned to face Chrom, her eyebrows raised at him as her perfectly manicured nails curled around a dessert fork delicately. “Are you trying to get me fat?” She turned back to the plate he brought her, taking a small bite of the butter cake, a warm and heady buzz suffusing through her. She didn’t want to drink, not much anyway, but she supposed alcohol in cake wasn’t going to make her drunk.

 

“I didn’t know what you wanted,” he confessed, scratching the back of his head as he laughed.

 

“So you brought me everything?” Robin glanced at the man she would now call her husband, a slight and sincere smile on her face. He was doing everything to make her feel comfortable in a situation where she wasn’t really.  _ ‘He’s cute in his ways, that much I have to admit.’ _

 

“Pretty much. That a bad idea?” He looked up at her with a boyish smile on his face, cheeks a little red with embarrassment.

 

“No, good thinking in fact. I wouldn’t have known what to get myself and in these heels?” Robin paused as she stuck at her foot for him to see, shaking it slightly. She smiled, bemused, wondering if it was a breach of protocol to shove her foot out from beneath the layers of tulle that made her look, and feel, like a puffy cloud. “I don’t think I would’ve lasted before I could make up my mind.” She looked back at her plate, inspecting his choices. “But something’s missing.”

 

“What’s that?” Chrom looked over, genuinely confused.

 

“Wedding cake. Everyone else has some.” Robin could barely even turn to look at her husband before he leapt to his feet in an attempt to correct the situation. She laughed, for the first time that day, at his reaction. She turned her gaze to the guests, letting it fall on her married sister-in-law. She looked happy, laughing to something silly her husband was saying, their daughter asleep and cradled in her arms.  _ ‘Perhaps one day.’ _ She rubbed her fingers over her rings, the permanence of the promise she whispered to him during the privacy of their declaration of vows, to the words he murmured to her before she spoke her pledges to him. Chrom was a good man and he deserved a woman who loved him. She hoped in time she could, if at least out of love for country she’d learn.

 

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Robin sat at the edge of the bed, nervously chewing her lower lip. She never had a boyfriend before, nothing having graduated past crushes and puppy love and here she was with a husband set to be king someday. She wondered if he felt the same, nervous. She remembered reading somewhere that he had a girlfriend before though she couldn’t be sure. Perhaps he’d just taken the same girl as a date to a few events, the press reading into it more than they should have. A shiver ran down her spine when she heard the door open, her back going ramrod straight as she clenched and unclenched her fists around the tulle of her skirt.

 

“Sorry, they kept asking me for the things that needed to be done tomorrow.” Chrom ran a hand through his hair, mussing it back into its usual state of disarray. “What time we’d leave, what we’d like to eat. You know, normal things the day after a wedding.” His gaze softened at the thought, that he was married now to the woman of his dreams. He didn’t feel like it was an exaggeration to think that, already smitten and absolutely fascinated with the woman he now proudly called his wife from the first time they met.

 

“It’s okay,” she murmured quietly, head dipped down lowly, her back facing her husband. She was far too absorbed in her worries to even notice Chrom had made his way in front of her, kneeling down as he took her hands in his and squeezed them gently.

 

“Hey.” He smiled when she tilted her head to face him. Her eyes were crystal clear and doe-like, her lower lip quivering slightly.

 

“Hello,” she replied softly, her body slowly relaxing as she slouched over him.

 

“What are you thinking about?” He wrapped his hands around her waist and rest his head on her lap, eyes closing.

 

“Tonight,” she confessed, cheeks dusted pink, finding comfort in carding her fingers through his hair.

 

“What about tonight?” He tightened his embrace.

 

“It was our wedding earlier so…” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, Chrom’s head moving as she did.

 

Wordlessly, Chrom stood up and tugged her along with him, pulling her flush against him. He’d be lying if the feeling of her soft curves fitting perfectly with his body didn’t arouse him even a little but she was scared. He’d do anything to take away her fears. “Shh, it’s okay.” He tilted her head back slightly as he kissed her fully, long and sweet, not at all insistent. His hand moved to the zipper of her dress, resting there and gauging her reaction. She tensed but quickly relaxed against him, distracted by the kiss. He played with the zipper pull, twisting and turning it but not dragging it down. He’d go as far as she’d let him.

 

“Are you…” She pulled back, eyes wide and glassy. “Are we…?”

 

“Only as far as you want,” he breathed, pulling her back into a kiss. She tiptoed to put her arms around his neck, letting herself go in the moment as he backed her into the bed. She fell with a soft thud and Chrom pulled back to contemplate her. Robin’s braid was starting to pull apart, her cheeks were even redder, and her lips were kiss swollen. Her chest was rising and falling slowly as she took in deep breaths, mouth slightly open and inviting him for another kiss. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” he murmured, caging her with his arms as he climbed on top of her, his knees pressing against her hips.

 

“Okay.” She reached up, tugging down at his tie and pulling him down. He was gentle and sweet, heat starting to build low in her belly. Her husband was infinitely kind and considerate, whispering love in her ears as he arched her back and tugged, finally, the zipper down. She didn’t think she fell in love with him between now and when they had exchanged their vows, but she could see herself learning to.

 

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He kissed the curve where neck met shoulder, sucking a bruise into her soft skin. Robin reached her arms back, snaking them around his neck, instinctively pressing herself against his cock, sandwiched between her back and his stomach. One hand curled beneath her breasts, occasionally squeezing, the other dipped inside of her, shallowly thrusting, his forearm keeping her thigh parallel and open. Their clothes were scattered all over the floor, the designers likely to faint at the mistreatment of their grandest pieces yet. Chrom lifted his head and rest his chin on the crook of her shoulder, just by the bruise he just made, peering over to look at his other hand. She was so wet for him. He kissed the freckling along her skin as her head tilted towards him, her hair spilling over the corded muscles of his back. He crooked his finger inside of her, Robin gasping, her eyes snapping open as she bit back a moan. “Let me hear you,” he murmured, crooking his finger again, delighted she let herself go, her voice loud and sweet in his ears.

 

“Chrom,” she groaned, hips starting to buck a little more wildly.

 

“Hmm?” He seemed to fascinated by what he could do to her with fingers alone, half-listening to his wife coming undone because of him.

 

“Chrom!” Robin sounded desperate this time, muscles tensing as she clenched tightly around his fingers. He could hear the flash of fear in her voice.

 

He pulled his fingers out, watching a ribbon of her wetness cling to him, deftly turning her around to face him afterwards. He eyed her sideways, licking his fingers clean, pulling her firmly against him with the arm still around her. “Chrom I…” She panted heavily, fingers grazing along his bare chest as she tried to steady herself, the overwhelming intensity of her near orgasm robbing her of all her strength. His eyes softened as he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

 

“Too much?” He kissed her again, swinging her legs over his lap, his cock still at full mast but ignored. She nodded, closing her eyes, her head lolling against him as she began to settle down, the hand that hadn’t been embedded within her slick rubbing soft and soothing circles along her back. “It’s okay.” He didn’t want to push her too hard too fast. That day would come, unfortunate that it wasn’t today but he could wait for her. He would wait for her.

 

“Sorry,” she mumbled tiredly, curling in towards him. She managed to raise a hand to his chest, the closest thing to an affectionate gesture she could muster at the moment. “I’m sorry.”

 

Wordlessly, he pulled his hand away and tucked it under her knees, the other hand supporting her back, carrying her to the bathroom. He settled her gently in the tub, and drew a warm bath, pulling at her hair gently to properly undo all the knots the braids and her writhing beneath him had created. He smiled when he saw her ease into the water, eyes opening slowly as she turned to face him, blushing when she saw his still present erection.

 

“Um, I can…” Her gaze flicked to between his legs.

 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it,” he murmured softly.

 

“But —”

 

He silenced her with a finger to her lips. When her brow knitted itself into a frown, he pulled his hand back and  kissed her gently on her temple. He shifted back to his haunches, steadying himself before he stood up, leaving her alone in the bathroom and mindfully closing the door behind him. She turned around and let her arms drape over the sides, staring at the door blushing. With a sigh, she faced the wall in front of her and sunk deeper into the bathwater, playing and squirting it from the palm of her hands.

 

It was a few minutes later when Chrom came back inside, towel wrapped around his waist as he washed his hands. Robin glanced shyly at him, watching as he dried his hands on the terry cloth on the rack before he made his way to her side. Unabashedly, he dropped the towel covering his lower body and leaned towards her, pushing her body forward as he climbed in behind her. Her eyes widened slightly before they settled closed, strangely comfortable being naked in his arms in the tub as opposed to in bed.

 

“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning into his chest.

 

“For what?” He picked up a face towel behind him and handed it to her, taking a bottle of shampoo and squeezing some of it into his hands.

 

“For not rushing me. It’s just…” She dipped the towel in the water and started to remove some of her makeup. She’d clean her face properly later, for now just thankful for the warm cloth against her face.

 

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” He worked the shampoo into her hair, fingers rubbing soothing circles into her scalp as she relaxed further and further against him. It was a step, for her to let down her guard with him and share these intimate moments. He was more than satisfied with this.

 

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Her eyelids were heavy, protesting against the attempt to open them. But she did, slowly and surely, finding herself facing her sleeping husband’s face, one arm pulling her close, the other bent and pillowing his head. One of his legs hooked over hers, curling her lower limbs towards his. Her mind was still a little hazy, from the combination of wine and last night’s events. Images slowly crept up, Robin’s cheek reddening in response as she continued to gaze at Chrom’s peaceful face. She tried to pull herself up to seated but Chrom tightened his grip, burying his face in her hair.  _ ‘Oh well, more sleep won’t do either of us harm.’ _ She nestled against him, closing her eyes as she drifted back to sleep, unaware of the slight smile stretching his lips.

 

Robin woke up to the smell of freshly brewed tea, Chrom propped up against the headboard with a book in one hand, his arm still draped over her shoulders as she curled against him. “Good morning,” she rasped, throat dry as she pushed herself up to seated, rubbing away sleepiness with the back of one hand. She felt strangely refreshed, peering around her to take in her surroundings. The small dining table off to one side, by the bay window, was set up for breakfast for two, a tray with two cloches parked beside it. In the center was a tea stand, filled with all sorts of bite sized pastries, sandwiches, and breakfast cakes, pots of jams and cream all around. She wondered if whoever brought in the food did so while they were still asleep, discreetly fixing everything.

 

“Good morning. I called for breakfast a little while ago. I was going to wake you up but I see you beat me to that.” Chrom set his book down on the side table, pulling her hair to one side and draping it across her collar bones. He was endlessly fascinated with the soft curve of her shoulders, the delicate freckling that broke the alabaster of her skin. He climbed out of bed, back facing her as he stretched his arms overhead. Robin blushed at his shirtlessness, half wondering if this was how he normally slept, in soft pants that hung just above his hips, the dip and definition of his iliac furrow implying promises of wildly passionate nights ahead. He turned around with a smile, reaching out a hand to assist her. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a loud gurgling sound interrupted their peace, Chrom breaking out into peals of laughter in response.

 

“Hey!” Robin blushed furiously, turning around and getting out of bed from the other side, ignoring him as she stomped to the table. Still, despite her embarrassment, she removed the cloches and placed their plates on the table.

 

“Sorry. I just didn’t expect that.” He brushed away the tears in his eyes, absentmindedly pulling up his pants with the other. Robin sulked, turning her head away but her gaze flicking over to the half-dressed man making his way towards her, arms crossed in annoyance. It was a little shameless but she didn’t really care, not when he was making fun of her. And besides, they were married, no harm in checking out her husband as long as it didn’t stroke his ego. “Sorry,” he repeated with a slight laugh, sitting down across her and reaching for her hand. She didn’t resist when he tugged it free, curling his fingers around hers, thumb resting on her palm. “We don’t have much planned for today. We can open some presents if you like? Or perhaps you’d like to take a look around? But we do have to pack before we turn in.”

 

“Already talking about sleeping when we haven’t even eaten breakfast?” Robin pulled her hand free, picking up a scone and inspecting it. “Are these made here?”

 

“Just reminding you, love,” he replied casually, leaning back as he watched her pick apart the breakfast before them. He sipped his tea, watching over the rim of the porcelain how her face was reddening, her hair tipping forward to hide most of it except her ears. “And yes, most of these were made here. Why?”

 

“Can I cook some time?” She tucked back some hair behind her ear as she glanced up at him, chewing her scone thoughtfully.

 

“You could but you don’t really have to.” Chrom set down his tea as he helped himself to some of the small sandwiches.

 

“It’ll help me still think I have a normal life, is all,” she murmured quietly, turning to look out into the gardens.

 

“Okay.” He picked up her free hand and kissed the back of it, letting it rest on the table as he dropped his arm. She turned around with bright eyes, the smile on her face lighting up her expression. He smiled in turn, hoping it was meant for him and not the idea of some normalcy back in her life. As normal as she could get it to anyway, as the Princess of Ylisstol and the Duchess of Athene. “Let’s go out into the gardens. You look like you want to.”

 

Robin blushed again, wondering if her emotions were plain as day on her face. Still, she didn’t mind his gallantry. There weren’t many men like that these days and much to the consternation of the population of women who’d wage war to be in her place, she was the one married to the epitome of chivalry. Not to mention he was a sight for sore eyes.

 

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Robin stared at her temporary closet, wondering where all of her clothes went. She was sure that she had at least one pair of jeans packed, and a pair of sensible sneakers, but all she could see were dresses, skirts, and heels. Chrom had promised to take her around the castle grounds, a quick tour of his parents’ home before they jetted off to their honeymoon, the rest of their things to be sent to the palace they would call home, separate from Sirius and Sofia but still just a stone’s throw away.

 

“Something wrong?” The top button of his dress shirt remained undone but his dark gray suit jacket and matching slacks were perfectly pressed. He eschewed the tie for today, his hair almost dry from the quick shower he had just taken. Chrom walked up behind her, reaching out as he brushed his fingers against the cloth of one of her skirts.

 

“Where are my jeans?”

 

“Your what?” Chrom looked down at her curiously.

 

“You know, pants made of denim? Don’t tell me you’ve never worn a pair before.” She sighed, rubbing her temples with one hand. “Am I supposed to just walk around in heels and skirts all the time? We don’t live in the Middle Ages. It’s not like women wearing pants is going to be the end of the world.” Robin frowned, annoyed at her lack of options despite a closet full of clothes enough for at least a week.

 

“I’ll have Frederick look into it, I promise,” he said soothingly, one hand slowly tracing the dip of her spine through her nightgown.

 

“Do. I’m not some a chicken to be trussed up as you please.” Robin picked out a blouse, a skirt, and the most sensible heels of the pile, a pair of two inch wedge pumps, stalking off to the bathroom with a low burning fury in her blood. Chrom sighed as he watched, wondering if they’d just taken two steps back in their relationship.

 

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“Did you send our clothes to our apartment already?” Chrom crossed his arms, tapping his foot against the pavement, his eyes following Robin as she looked at the gardens. He didn’t need to look back to know Frederick was standing just a little bit behind him, a respectable distance.

 

“Of course.” Frederick kept his hands at his sides, gaze flickering between Chrom and Robin. “Why do you ask?”

 

“Even her pants?” It was a strange conversation to be had for sure.

 

“Her pants, milord?” The brunet raised an enquiring brow.

 

“Yes. Her pants. She was looking for some to change into after we had breakfast.” He turned his head, still following Robin with his eyes, the blonde, sweeping her skirt under her knees as she crouched down low, steady on her feet, cupping one of the fully bloomed lilies in her hand.

 

“But we made sure to leave enough clothing for her to choose from.” Frederick rubbed his chin with his fingers. Chrom shot a withering look to his private secretary, the brunet taking the gaze unflinchingly.

 

“She knows how to dress herself appropriately for various occasions. I don’t think it’ll kill anyone to see my wife in a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a presentable shirt if we’re walking in the gardens,” Chrom said tiredly, crossing his arms as he turned his attention back to his wife. He ached to join her, to ask what flowers she favored most, but something kept his feet cemented in place.

 

Frederick appraised the new lady of the household. She looked fine, more than excellent really, hair straight and pulled off to one side, wearing a pretty a line skirt, solid black cut by a hands width of sheer black tulle towards the hem, cut in the middle by a thin strip of the solid black cotton, the bottom part of the tulle attached to a hands width of the black cotton that fell to the middle of her shins when she stood up in a flattering midi length. A dark navy blouse was tucked in loosely, delicate white and soft blue flowers printed all around, occasionally punctuated with reddish pink blooms. The boat neckline and the sleeves that reached to her wrists added a certain grace and elegance, her suede navy pumps with cork wedges adding a bit of casualness to a very put together look. She could switch out her heels for more formal pumps and she would be dressed well enough to entertain guests for afternoon tea, not at all an embarrassment to her new position and husband.

 

.

.

.

.

 

“They sent our things to the apartment in Thallo Palace.” Chrom snapped his suitcase shut, rolling it off to one side before he carried on with the rest. It was a respectably modest three suitcases total, considering the number of suits he brought and her change of clothes. They weren’t attending any formal state affairs but they’d be seen out and about. Best to wear clothes as befitting their station, representing the Crown of Ylisse whether they were on duty or not. “I’m sorry they took it upon themselves to choose your things.” He glanced over towards his wife, Robin seated at the edge of the bed swinging her feet.

 

“I’m not a child. I know how to dress myself well enough so as not to embarrass who and what I now represent,” she mumbled coolly, gripping the edge of the mattress even more tightly. It wasn’t Chrom’s fault but she just couldn’t help herself.

 

“I know I know. I’m sorry. I told them never to assume for you.” Chrom sighed picking up something from the dresser before walking over. Robin turned to face him then quickly shifted her attention back to what had originally caught her eye. He took it as a sign that he could at least sit beside her, choosing a distance that was close but left some room between them, taking care not to put too much weight on the object in his hand. “I saw how much you liked the gardens here. You’ll like Thallo Palace much more I think. The gardens there are much more majestic, portions of it open to the public.”

 

“Hm.” Robin tucked her hair behind her ear as she listened, her face neutral so as not to betray any of her feelings.

 

“The apartment is close to the gardens and there are stables there too. Perhaps you’d like to choose a horse of your own to ride? Our prized stables are there you know.” He ignored her rebuff, trying instead to smooth things over. “Once we’ve come back, we can settle down together and make it a home before I go back to my duties.” Robin shot him a painful look at the word duties, her gaze at him brief before she turned back to the acutely more interesting table where they shared breakfast. Chrom sighed, moving his hand and letting the flower he had carefully hidden from her sight to her lap. “I noticed you were particularly fascinated with the lilies. Are they your favorite?”

 

“Roses are overrated,” she murmured, fingers grazing the petals of the yellow lily in her lap. The meaning was not lost to her. He was thankful. “What are you thankful for?” Her anger started to abate. It wasn’t Chrom she was mad at, more at the people who assumed her to be what she was not. Images of the few times they met before the wedding popped up, always showing a Chrom who seemed to genuinely care about her happiness despite the situation they were both thrust into. Her cheeks reddened when she remembered how careful he had been with her last night. “Lilies are so much more elegant and regal don’t you think?”

 

“Indeed.” He leaned towards her, putting much of his weight on his right palm as he kissed her tenderly. He felt her shift, but at least not away from him, her left hand inching closer to rest on top of his. Robin leaned towards him, turning her torso ever so slightly, squaring her hips in his direction. She saw the quiet and fierce devotion he had promised her, brushing away the last of her hurt.

 

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.

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.

 

Chrom stared at the ceiling, one arm curled around Robin’s shoulders, his wife’s arm draped across his chest as she leaned into him, chest rising and falling slowly while she slept. He would have to steady himself for more days like this, more days when Robin would look at him with hurt in her hauntingly beautiful and expressive eyes, feeling alone in a world she was pushed into even if he would stand beside her the rest of their days. His eyelids heavied down, the vows they made to each other ringing loudly in his head, vows only they, and Naga as their witness, heard.

 

_ He smiled softly as he slipped the wedding band on her finger, a perfect fit against her engagement ring. He lifted his head, almost shyly, as he watched her eyes widen in wonderment. Arranged marriage as it was, no one could deny the sheer romanticism of the moment, anyone easily swept away by the sweetness and the sincerity of the ceremony. Pulling her hand to his lips, he kissed the knuckle of her ring finger, keeping her hand near him when he started to speak. He had memorized his vows, hoping he didn’t stumble through them as his heart swelled with joy and affection. _

 

_ “I promise to love and care for you all the days of my life, to honor and cherish you and our children, to be your strength and font of courage when times are troubled, to protect you from all hurt. There’s nothing I won’t do to ensure our family’s happiness, to keep you and our children from all harm, to move heaven and earth to keep the smiles on your faces. I pray that I be the support by your side, the arms you come home to, the shelter of your heart. This I vow to you in the silence of our hearts and with Naga as witness.” He kissed her hand again, squeezing it lightly before letting it go, the light seeping through the windows glinting off of the gems he had chosen for her. The faint blush on her cheeks told him he had done well in crafting his vows. _

 

_ Quietly, she picked up his wedding ring, taking his left hand with her trembling ones, pushing the metal band gently along the length of his ring finger until it was snug at the base. Her fingers curled around his, unwilling to let go as she took even and measured breaths to steady herself. They had entered a small room off to the side of the altar, as many a groom and bride before them who were married in this very chapel had done, hidden from the weight and gaze of the world as they made their promises to each other. She tried to still her nerves, mouth opening but no words coming out. The hand she held curled slightly, blunt nails brushing against her fingertips, jolting her back to the present. _

 

_ “I pray for bright and warm days ahead, for happy and healthy children, for love and laughter the rest of our days. I pray for strength and courage to bear all your hurts and pains, for a heart big enough to help you shoulder all your burdens, for legs strong enough to move us forward, together, through wherever life takes us. I pray that we may grow old together, more laugh lines than frowns in our face, surrounded by all we love and with the knowledge of the good we’ve done in the world. This I vow to you in the silence of our hearts and with Naga as witness.” _

 

_ Chrom stared at her with awestruck eyes, finally releasing the breath he didn’t realize he was holding when she finished. She had a way with words, painting a beautiful picture of a small family of their own, tucked away in his arms as he watched them sleep peacefully. As she started to let go of his hand, he broke protocol and pulled her flush against him, a playful fire dancing in his eyes. Never mind their first kiss as a married couple was supposed to be in front of the altar, their guests as witness. He was sure Naga wouldn’t mind the slight breach, granting him this indulgence as he kissed her long and sweet. She was promising not just to be his wife but to carry his burdens with him, that he needn’t be so reserved with her with his problems. She would be strong enough to carry it for both of them, all she needed was for him to know that and to trust her as she would him. _

 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, sinking down on the bed, curling towards her as he pressed their foreheads together and draped his free arm over her. Robin shifted, mumbling incoherently as she buried her face against his chest. “I’ll be better. I promise.” She smiled against his chest, comfortable in his embrace as she slept on. He wondered if she’d heard him, slowly drifting off to sleep. His last thought was asking himself how he had ever managed to sleep so peacefully without his wife in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EVERYTHING AND NOTHING HAPPENED. I’m so playing the Chrom is infatuated with Robin card here. But actually, if you look at their in-game interactions, you don’t even have to squint to see that CHROM. IS. INFATUATED. WITH. ROBIN. I WILL FIGHT FOR THIS TO THE DEATH. TO THE DEATH I SAY.
> 
> [This](https://www.kleinfeldbridal.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/lazaro-ball-gown-wedding-dress-33382524.jpg) is Robin’s dress and [this](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/36/77/04/3677045c2255cc18af3bdbbb2c418d1d--french-braid-hairstyles-hairstyle-images.jpg) is her hairstyle, sans the headband. [This](https://www.debebians.com/round-diamond-five-stone-ring-with-trellis-setting.html) is what her engagement ring looks like, just replace the stones with the appropriately described ones xD and [this](http://weddbook.com/media/2500079/love-knot-ring-sterling-silver-wedding-band-unique-mens-wedding-band-womens-wedding-band-his-and-hers-wedding-ring-silver) is the design for their wedding rings!
> 
> I love reading about the British monarchy, especially during the times of Elizabeth I and Victoria, as well as current affairs in part due to The Crown. So since this is set in modern times, though in Ylisse, I took a lot of cues from the English monarchy. Even though it still confuses the hell out of me so I may be taking some liberties here and there just to make things easier on me, lmao. Such as the Succession to the Crown Act 2013 which replaces male-line primogeniture to absolute primogeniture, the fact that even though Robin is married to a prince, she does not get to be called Princess Robin (because she wasn’t born a princess) but instead is called Princess Chrom of Ylisstol, if using that title, because the women who marry into the British royal family take the titles of their husbands but the title prince or princess may only be used in front of their name IF they were [born one](http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/meghan-markle-prince-harry-royal-princess-title-duchess-wedding-engaged-marrying-windsor-a8079476.html) (as with William, Harry, Beatrice, and Eugenie) or created one (as with Prince Philip).
> 
> I know (and research) way too much of this for my own good and I’m not even a citizen of any of the countries that are part of the Commonwealth, haha
> 
> Also obviously Athene isn’t a real place in Ylisse but there aren’t many so every once in a while, I will be making up places xD Rather than Athena, I figured Athene sounded nicer, and she is the goddess of wisdom and Robin is damn smart. And since Maribelle is from Themis and Themis is a Greek Titan… I figure I’d go that route. Thallo is also the goddess of spring, buds, and blooms so I chose her name for their residence since Chrom and (my version of) Robin are both born in the spring. So are Lucina and Morgan in fact!
> 
> ROBIN WILL EVENTUALLY BE A MINX HERE TOO, I JUST IMAGINE HER THAT WAY LMAO. THIS IS E (orz) FOR A REASON. But she just needs time to get comfortable in her new situation, and the fact that she’s married to someone she barely knows. I mean you can already tell at her shamelessness regarding how Chrom looks sooooooo
> 
> As usual, your kudos and comments are my lifeblood <3


	2. Home is Where the Heart is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I try my best to be as accurate as possible in terms of roles and details you can LIKELY Google and research about, not everything is so clear cut and easy to understand. Don’t get me STARTED on heraldry and the headache it will cause me if I ever decide on a plot line… which I might do… So if you ever see characters doing things their role might not otherwise in real life, I’ve taken creative license to do so xD
> 
> Also, Frederick switches between milord, milady, sir, ma’am. Etiquette is that you call a royal “Your Royal Highness” the first time, “Your Majesty” ONLY for the reigning monarch, and then Sir/Ma’am thereafter. Frederick is just super old school hence the milord and milady at times.

Robin blinked, surprised at the sight that greeted her on the tarmac: cameras and external flash units everywhere, security detail keeping the reporters and civilians at bay. It was overwhelming and they hadn’t even stepped out of the plane yet. Maybe it wouldn’t be too much to ask if they could just go back, to that quaint little cottage they stayed in for a little over a week just the two of them, their security detail mindful to keep their distance and give them their privacy. She clutched his arm more tightly. This wasn’t what she signed up for but she’d have to get used to it. For both their sakes.

 

“Are you okay?” Chrom asked worriedly, brow creasing, free arm reaching across his side as he brushed her bangs away from her face.

 

“It’s… just a little overwhelming,” she whispered quietly, steeling herself. Their departure hadn’t been as bad, their flight so early in the morning and the date itself unannounced. Their arrival was a different story, when the rose colored lenses would be taken off, when Chrom would assume his royal duties and Robin would find her place in public service.

 

“You’ll charm them all I’m sure.” Chrom pulled his arm tighter against him, the pressure gentle and reassuring against the hand looped around his elbow. He let his free hand rest on top of hers, thumb grazing over the back of her hand soothingly. “Shall we?” He waited for her small nod before stepping out, the light glinting against the buckle of his leather shoes. Their descent down the stairs was slow and measured, her legs wobbling slightly from the imbalance her slim heels gave, her gaze demurely pointed downwards as her other hand held onto the railing. “See, good girl,” he murmured affectionately, his voice encouraging in the sea of loud yells.

 

“Prince Chrom! Princess Robin!”

 

“Where did you go for your honeymoon?”

 

“When are you moving to your residence?”

 

“Look over here and smile!”

 

The pair nodded graciously, moving along to meet Frederick who was waiting by the end of the carpet that had been laid out for them. Their pace was brisk but not overly so. Robin let her eyes wander slightly, gaze moving all around but keeping her head forward. She’d get used to all this attention one day, more than the stares she already got for being of mixed blood, her rather exotic look a curiosity for some, a point of jealousy or teasing for others. But right now, it was still too much.

 

“Ah Your Royal Highnesses, welcome back. I take it your trip went well?” Frederick stood slightly behind Robin’s free side, his back blocking some of the crowd, one arm extended to point the way to the waiting car. She shot him a grateful look, Chrom’s private secretary nodding slightly in understanding. “Your day is rather full. Shall I describe it to you once in the car?”

 

“Yes, I think that would be best.” Chrom glanced around, smiling still. While he always expected a good-sized crowd whenever he, or anyone in his immediate family, arrived from a trip, he didn’t expect the loud cheers. Perhaps it was the novelty of seeing a new member of the royal family, a prettier one as compared to the last though none offense meant to Emmeryn’s husband. Still, they had been married for over five years now, their daughter having been born about three years ago. Of course the public would get attached to Robin quickly, the pair of them all smiles and her silver white hair aglow in contrast to his deep blue.

 

“Is it always like this?” Robin looked up at Chrom, her voice quiet. She sounded nervous, all this attention pointed towards her. It wasn’t like her heritage was the most nationally guarded secret, but no one ever really prodded much besides typical reactions of either they hated or loved her genes. It was the reason why they had arranged for her to become Chrom’s wife after all but still, it didn’t ease her lingering worries. She was sure her husband knew, of course he did, but he didn’t seem to care. At least outwardly. Robin bit the inside of her cheek to try and soothe her fears, her heels clacking sharply.

 

“They were like this too when Emmeryn and Liam got married, even rowdier when Clair was born. I suspect they’re just fascinated with someone new joining the fray. It’ll get better, and easier, with time. I promise.” He slowed their pace to a stop, a black town car approaching them. “You’re doing great. You don’t have to worry.” He tilted his head to the right, a warm smile on her face. “Look, I think they have something for you.”

 

A little boy held his sister’s hand, the younger one clutching a small bouquet of wildflowers, feet glued to her spot but it looked like she wanted to make a mad dash somewhere. Robin caught their eyes and let go of her fierce clutch on Chrom’s arm, sitting as primly and modestly as she could on her haunches. She bent down to meet their eye level, smiling as she reached out a hand. Frederick approached to stop them but Chrom stretched out his arm, preventing the brunet from doing much else as he shook his head.

 

“Let her. We’re here. No harm will come to pass.” Chrom smiled, watching as the two children cautiously moved forward, their parents holding each other with bated breath and wide eyes.

 

“Are these for me?” Robin asked quietly, tuning out the hum of the engine.

 

“Yes!” the girl chirped, her brother nudging her slightly. “Your Royal Highness.” She blushed, embarrassed that she forgot to address the new princess properly. “They reminded me of you and the Prince.” She held out her hand, bringing closer to Robin a small selection of white, purple, and light blue blooms.

 

“Thank you, I love them.” Robin smiled, taking the sprigs with her left hand and pulling the two children closer with her right, giving them a kiss on each cheek. “These are very lovely. Your parents must be so proud of you two, thoughtful and kind.” She looked up and waved at the two adults hanging just behind, the pair bowing slightly. “Now go on, your parents are waiting. Perhaps you can ask them to buy you both ice cream as a reward? Tell them that I’d like that very much for you two.” Their eyes lit up as they nodded feverishly, the boy bowing and the girl curtseying as best she could before they ran back up to their parents.

 

“That was nice of you.” Chrom stretched out his hand, offering it to his wife. “It seems they took pictures of that moment too.” He watched as the photographers quickly opened the digital display of their cameras, trying to see if they’d gotten high quality images of the scene.

 

“Did you know they’d do that?” Robin took his hand graciously, but not before splitting the springs and slotting half of them into the button hole of his lapel, much like a boutonniere.

 

“Maybe.” He smiled a little boyishly, curling his fingers around hers. “Shall we? Frederick looks like he’s going to blow his top.”

 

She laughed, letting herself be led along to the car, eyeing the almost imperceptible twitch of the brunet’s lip as she passed him by. “Where are we going?” She buckled her seatbelt as she let her palm rest on the seat between them.

 

“Thallo Palace first Ma’am, to your apartment, to meet with the interior designers, for the final touches to your residence.” Frederick’s voice sounded professional, their itinerary for the day already memorized. “Then to Ylisstol Castle to meet your private secretary then dinner with the King and Queen.”

 

“Okay,” she whispered quietly, eyes closing. Frederick mindfully rolled up the privacy window. “But I’d like to go home after, if we can. Will it be a breach of protocol? I… I just want to be alone for a few hours longer.” She looked at him almost imploringly.  _ ‘Just the two of us.’  _ Chrom kissed her fingertips as the car started to move.

 

“No not at all.” He laughed, letting go of her hand and cupping her cheek instead. “Mother, of all people, will understand.” His cheeks were slightly pink at her confession. “Did you enjoy yourself these past seven odd days?” His thumb ran over her cheekbone.

 

Robin nodded, a soft smile on her face. She cooked everyday, ingredients fresh from the nearby farmers’ market, surprised Chrom knew his way around the kitchen well enough. They strolled barefoot on the beach, running where the water crashed into the sand, sitting in an open hut as they watched the sun set over the horizon. They woke to cool breeze and birds singing, to warm mugs of coffee, to fresh fruits, breads, and cheeses. It was a place where everyone knew who Chrom was but respectfully maintained their distance. It was a place where despite her sudden rise in social status, they were all just words and she could be herself for just a little while longer, with no expectations to meet and no protocols to worry about. It was a place she’d rather call home and was sad to leave when the bubble broke. It was a place that she would hold with fond memories, to a time where she could just simply be.

 

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She ran her fingers over the marble fireplace mantel, marveling at how spick and span the place was even though Chrom told her no one had lived here for a while. It was his great aunt’s former residence, empty since she passed, but the upkeep of the place was impeccable. It was called an apartment but they may as well have called it a building, the entire thing all to themselves: three storeys high with eight rooms to a floor. There were staircases to each level but an elevator had been recently installed for convenience, tucked away in a corner, the renovations to this part of the palace having started prior to the wedding of the Crown Prince. This had always been intended to be his home once wedded, and she was glad for the subtle and elegant mix of modern and traditional furnishings, not the gaudy gilded gold and velvets she assumed.

 

“The renovations aren’t completely finished. Well, the construction work is but I thought it best to wait for you to pick out the remaining furnishings.” Chrom squeezed her shoulder before dragging his touch along her arm, picking up her hand from the mantel and twining their fingers together. He was more than pleased with her reaction of squeezing his hand in turn, perhaps grateful for the consideration that she wanted to do things to make it her own.

 

“Maybe not the whole place. How many rooms is this?” Robin turned her head slightly to the back, her eyes gazing softly at him.

 

“Twenty… four I think?” Chrom rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he mentally counted, his other hand still twined with Robin’s.

 

“Twenty-four?” The blonde blanched at his estimation. “I’d love to pick out the furnishings but not for the whole place.” She laughed quietly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Maybe for our more personal spaces? The ones that aren’t completely furnished anyway, and also the ones with missing pieces. What do we intend to do with all this real estate anyway?” She waved her free hand blindly, turning her attention to the cozy living room they were currently standing in. She didn’t notice Chrom dip his head and kiss her neck, starting with her pulse point and moving down to where it curved into her shoulder. “Chrom!” Robin jerked her hand and stepped back, more from embarrassment than anger, her face beet red. “What was that for?”

 

“Am I not allowed to show affection for my wife in the privacy of my home?” He grinned, stepping closer towards her like a predator hunting its prey. Her eyes widened as she ran away laughing, cursing her disadvantage of heels as she tried her best to escape his clutches. Chrom humored her, keeping her out of reach but only just.

 

“I don’t think they’ll approve of heels stomping like this on hardwood,” Robin laughed, moving right outside of her husband’s grasp.

 

“Oh? Well then.” Taking larger strides, Chrom managed to encircle Robin’s wrist and pulled her towards him, the pair of them tumbling on top of the plush carpet, the blonde finding herself caged within her husband’s arms, his deep mauve tie dangling between them. Lately he’d taken to wearing various shades of purple more often, complementary to most of the blues and silvers he wore, in honor of his wife. He stared deep into her cinnamon eyes, the redness on her cheeks from their brief chase, the rise and fall of her chest as she caught her breath, the slight part to her lips he just wanted to kiss. Just as he was about to dip his head to meet hers, a cough from behind interrupted them.

 

“Sir, Ma’am, your appointment is here. Shall I wait five minutes before sending them in?” Frederick averted his gaze as he stood by the entrance, hands behind his back, posture impeccable as always.

 

Chrom sighed as he straightened himself, reaching out a hand to help Robin stand. She looked down towards her legs, brushing off whatever dust she could, a little bit disappointed to have lost the playfulness of the moment. She still wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about Chrom but she at least liked him well enough, keeping her expectations warm but positive. She knew they’d both make mistakes but it was how they came back from it that was important.

 

“No it’s fine. You can send them in now.” He reached out for Robin’s hand, the blonde, staring at his briefly before taking it.

 

“As you wish.” Frederick bowed lowly before leaving.

 

“Don’t think this is over. There’ll be a continuation of this later.” He wagged his eyebrows mischievously, pausing briefly to kiss the back of her hand. He rather liked doing that, lifting his gaze towards her while keeping her hand against his lips, watching as her eyes widened briefly before softening, her cheeks tinged a lovely shade of pink. “Have you thought of the kind of look you want?” He squeezed her hand gently, letting it hang back between them as they stood just by the simple, temporary couch by the fireplace. Though much of the apartment was furnished in a style they both liked, there was something to be said about being able to choose their own furniture for at least some of the spaces, the living room for example. And definitely the bedrooms.

 

“Bright open spaces,” she replied softly, looking around her. “Well, as bright as the structure will allow anyway.” Of the different residences of the Crown, Thallo Palace was one of the few that had large windows and an open feel, the structure itself designed with spring in mind. “And warm and cozy with a mix of cherry and mahogany inlays and furniture if we can. Suede furnishings and studded wingbacks.” Robin flushed prettily as she gazed at the canvas covered room around them, wondering if he’d tease that she thought so much into this. “I don’t want to come home to a place of stone and steel.”

 

“That sounds nice. The children would love it.” He put on a gracious smile when he noticed the interior designers come in with their sketch pads and books of fabric swatches and paint chips. He didn’t notice stare at him, almost in awe, at the confidence that one day they’d have children.

 

 _‘Of course we’ll have children. That’s why we married.’_ Her internal voice was a bit glum but quickly pushed it aside to greet the designers. She wasn’t sure why she sounded a bit disappointed with that idea, like she wanted it to be the two of them for just a bit longer, that she’d have him all to herself. Robin blinked, wondering where that line of thought came from but smiled in amusement at his attitude. Chrom had a strange sense of confidence that he’d get her to fall in love with him, truly and completely. In the end, she knew she wasn’t actively rebuffing his advances. In fact, a sense of fondness for him had started to foster after their brief argument the day after their wedding.

 

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.

 

“Cordelia has been working as one of my assistants since she’s graduated from college, so about four years now. But her position in the prince’s staff has always been temporary,” explained Frederick, his eyes crinkling with a sense of fondness as he introduced Robin’s private secretary. “The Queen thought it best that milord’s wife’s private secretary be someone close in age.” With a gentle hand, Frederick urged the redhead forward, her back tall and straight like she embodied professionalism and perfectionism to the utmost degree.

 

“Your Royal Highness.” She curtseyed, Robin trying to suppress a squirm. She really wasn’t used to being put on a pedestal.

 

“I’ll leave you two alone now to get better acquainted.” Frederick glanced at Robin, waiting to be dismissed. With a tired half-smile, she nodded, sinking down into her seat once the brunet left.

 

“So, tell me a little bit about yourself Cordelia.” Robin looked up to her companion.

 

“I graduated from the University of Ylisstol with a degree in Communications and International Relations, Ma’am,” the redhead supplied, hands primly held in front as she remained standing.

 

“Please, sit down.” Robin gestured to the armchair in front of her. “And don’t you Ma’am me. We’re about the same age anyway.”

 

“Absolutely not. Protocol requires it,” admonished Cordelia, drawing in a sharp breath but taking the proffered seat. “Ma’am, you’re royalty now. Even if you were a commoner before, it means that you take precedence over many people because of your station. It must be hard, I can only imagine, having been barely even two weeks since you’ve assumed your husband’s titles as well but we simply can’t ignore proper courtesy and deference because you are uncomfortable.”

 

“At least when it’s just the two of us?” Robin haggled, crossing her arms and desperately trying not to slump and slouch into the couch. “Please? Just so I feel like I’m still me and not wearing a mask that I’ve been made to.”

 

“I’m sorry, Ma’am.” Cordelia dipped her head slightly, trying not to look into Robin’s expressive eyes. She would make a great negotiator for her husband, the Crown, and Parliament if they really needed her to be. She had a way with words and situations that just begged people to listen, a charming smile, and an otherworldly air about her. The redhead could see why even though she was a commoner and didn’t seem to be much more than a wife to the prince, there was something about her that made her advantageous and possibly even a dangerous weapon for Ylisse.

 

“Just when we’re not working then,” the princess insisted. Her lips quirked into a small smile when she saw Cordelia slump forward, rubbing her temples with her middle finger and thumb.

 

“Only when we’re not working Ma’am and only then,” Cordelia said in defeat. Robin really had something in her that she was born with. The redhead looked up, greeted by a bright smile on Robin’s face.

 

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.

 

“They said the remainder of the work should be done in about a month.” Chrom held his elbow from behind his back, arm straight. “Most of the pieces she liked are still available so it’s mostly waiting for the paint to dry, rearranging the existing furnishings, making a last run through the place with a vacuum cleaner I suppose.” It was strange, walking through the corridors from the throne room to the private residences with his father but he supposed this was his mother’s doing.

 

“Hm.” There it was, Sirius and his short, clipped, to the point answers. They turned the corner, the gardeners stopping their work to bow and greet the king and his son. A nod and a wave of Sirius’ hand set them back to work, humming cheerfully as they continued on.

 

“Will it just be the four of us tonight?”

 

“Your mother doesn’t want the girl to be overwhelmed by Lissa, Emmeryn, Liam, and Clair are visiting his parents.” Chrom felt his hackles rise, even though he knew his father didn’t mean anything by it.

 

“Robin.”

 

“Hm?” Sirius turned to face his son, his brow raised.

 

“It’s Robin,” he corrected, tone plain and expression neutral.

 

“Ah. Yes, of course. Robin.” Sirius turned to face the path once more. “Yes, your mother wants to do everything she can to ease Robin into the family and public life. A dinner with the king and his wife is intimidating enough, no?” He crossed one arm over his chest, the other rubbing his chin as he glanced sideways at Chrom but head still facing forward. “Do forgive me. I can see you’re very protective of her.”

 

The prince stared, jaw hanging. Did he hear things correctly? His father actually apologized for something? Even in the wrong, Sirius typically went about expressing remorse in a fairly roundabout way, not facing them head on.

 

“I meant no harm. I just wanted to see how you’d react to what could be considered a slight to Robin’s name,” the king reassured him. “But it is very entertaining to see you like this.”

 

Chrom glared at his father incredulously.

 

“Who are you and what did you do to my father?”

 

Sirius roared with laughter as they continued on, the prince flushed red with a mix of mild anger and embarrassment, mostly the latter much to the amusement of the king.

 

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“Not much of a liquor drinker?” Sofia put a hand on Robin’s shoulder, smiling warmly. The blonde turned around, attention having been otherwise preoccupied by the grand piano in the room.

 

“Not really no. My mom and I are more into mixed drinks. We used to make a thing out of it, when I turned 21. When she didn’t have to go to work the next day, we pulled out a few things and we made up our own cocktails.” Robin turned her head to face her mother-in-law, dipping her head slightly in acknowledgement. Sirius and Sofia insisted on no protocols. This was a family dinner, all titles left by the door. They just happened to live in a palace and had their own household staff that included personal chefs.

 

“Interesting.” Sofia’s blue eyes lit up in amusement, the same blue eyes Chrom had. “Were they any good?”

 

“Some,” Robin laughed, remembering the strange purple looking drink she made, one of the last ones before she got married. It looked like it could kill someone but it was actually pretty good, sweet and candy-like but not overly so with enough of a kick to remind you this wasn’t meant to be served to minors. “But others had us running to the bathroom or the kitchen sink to throw up.”

 

“You sound like you’re very close with your mother.” Sofia drew her hand back, holding her elbows and pressing her arms under her chest. She turned her attention to Chrom and Sirius, the pair of them with their liquors of choice, bourbon and brandy respectively, in a low ball, father and son seated on arm chairs tilted towards each other.

 

“I am. It was just the two of us. I mean, my father…” Robin trailed off at the end, unsure just how much they knew. Of course the identity of her father was no mystery to them but it wasn’t a topic she found easy to talk about, mostly because he was never around. She was sure he knew of her existence, but because she was his daughter, she never really amounted to much in his eyes.

 

“I saw how you were looking at the piano. Do you play?” Sofia wisely decided to change the subject, turning their attention back to the imposing black instrument in the room, the wood buffed to its brightest.

 

“I can play some pieces,” Robin confessed, cheeks tingeing pink at Sofia’s words. “My mother taught me to play in the beginning and I took lessons after. I’ll probably have more difficulty reading sheet music than remembering how to play it though.”

 

“Oh? Then play something you’ve memorized then.” Sofia smiled as she encouraged the blonde towards the piano.

 

Quietly, Robin fixed her skirt under her as she sat down, lifting the cover and running her fingers over the impeccably white keys. Taking a deep breath, the first notes of Vivaldi’s Spring, movement 1: Allegro began to sound, her eyes closing as she remembered the movement of her fingers as they danced across the ivory. This was always one of her favorites, happy and cheerful, as she imagine flowers starting to bloom. Her mother insisted she memorize at least this movement, the beginning of spring, when she was born.

 

“She’s talented,” Sirius observed, taking another sip of his brandy but his comment was only met by silence. He turned his head to glance at Chrom, only to find his son blindly setting aside his low ball as he leaned forward, ears perked up as though to try and hear even more of the music she was playing. The king shook his head, amused. His son was absolutely smitten with his wife. _‘Not that I don’t know how that feels like.’_

 

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“What happened to going home after dinner?” Chrom teased as he came out of the shower, rubbing his towel on his quickly drying hair. He approached Robin, her back turned towards him but she could see him coming from the mirror of the vanity. She had her hair tucked to one side as she brushed it, the bristles occasionally snagging along some tangles. Robin scowled, loosening her brush and combing through it again, trying to work through the knots as gently as she could. Chrom smiled, amused as he sat down beside her on the vanity bench and set his towel along his lap, leaning his head against her shoulder as she continued to work through her hair. “I said, what happened to going home after dinner?” He knew she ignored him purposefully, the faint dusting of pink on her cheeks a dead giveaway.

 

“Your mother said they’re making sweet blintzes for breakfast tomorrow. And there’s an assortment of homemade jams!” Robin complained, bowing her head down in defeat. It’s not that she was against the idea of spending more time with her in-laws, they seemed to be the perfect ones all kind and considerate, but she still couldn’t shake off the feeling that she had to be just so. In public, of course she had to be, but in the privacy of their own homes, they insisted they be treated like they were her own parents, or really parent in her case.

 

“Are any form of pancakes and waffles your favorite food love?” Chrom lifted his forehead and settled his chin on her shoulder. Robin burned even redder at his question, picking up her brush and resuming her task, ignoring his question. He laughed and Robin felt something bloom inside her chest, something she couldn’t quite place, but she liked the sound: deep and comforting. “I take that as a yes.”

 

“Sweet blintzes and homemade jams,” she mumbled in justification, still a little embarrassed all it took to change her mind was food.

 

“Nothing to be embarrassed about love,” he soothed, kissing her temple before taking the brush from her hands. “Let me.” Robin turned around with a questioning look but let her husband do as he pleased, Chrom picking up a thick section and running the bristles through it gently, the hand underneath her hair following the pace of the brush. Her eyes closed as she started to relax.

 

“How do you know how to do this so well?” She turned around to face him as soon as he put the brush down.

 

“I have two sisters.” He shrugged, reaching out to run his fingers through her hair one last time. “And a rambunctious niece. You’d think that’s enough qualifications on my resume yeah?” His hand drifted from her hair to her cheek, thumbing across the delicate skin above her cheekbones.

 

“Yeah.” She smiled brightly, feeling lucky for whatever was developing between them. It wasn’t quite love, not yet for her anyway, but it was an easier thing to see now.

 

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She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, looking at her sleeping husband with a soft expression on her face. It was still early and Chrom wouldn’t be awake for another hour at least, probably two. Slipping into a pair of flats, she made her way out of the room and headed towards the kitchens. She still wasn’t sure how she managed to free herself from Chrom’s embrace, his hold on her usually tight but comforting, but she managed to. Her feet pattered against the floor lightly as she made her way down the dizzying steps, lucky that all she had to do to make her way to her destination was go down a couple of flights and head towards the eastern rooms. Robin found herself unusually giddy, shivering slightly in the early morning cold, pulling the light cardigan even tighter.

 

“Good morning!” she chirped, wide eyed and all smiles when she entered the kitchen. The cooks all stopped what they were doing and stared at her, wondering what they should do. She sauntered over to the fridge and opened it, humming to herself as she eyed the contents. The rest of the staff continued on with their work, though ill at ease because Robin hadn’t said what she was doing here.

 

“Your Royal Highness, are you looking for something? Perhaps I may be of some assistance.” Robin looked up, the woman before her clearly one of the more senior members of the kitchen staff.

 

“Eggs.”

 

“Eggs, Ma’am?” The woman, probably one of the sous chefs, tilted her head in confusion. “Would you care for us to cook some eggs for breakfast?”

 

“No no,” Robin shook her head as she straightened herself, her hair swaying gently. “Although that’s not entirely accurate.”

 

“Ma’am?” The poor girl was confused now, resisting the urge to scratch the back of her head.

 

“I want to cook some eggs for breakfast,” she explained, smiling from ear to ear for once. She woke up early, the sun just barely past the horizon, with the sudden desire to cook.

 

“Ma’am you don’t need to do anything! You can leave the preparation and cooking to us you know.” The sous chef was visibly fidgeting now, unsure of what to do. She was new when Princess Emmeryn had gotten married but her husband wasn’t really the cooking type and only ever wandered into the kitchens if he wanted food or drink. Which wasn’t a problem. That was their job.

 

“I insist,” Robin said, though not unkindly. She smiled, tightening the elastic around her hair. “It’ll help me feel like I’m still me. You know I used to have to make my own breakfast everyday. Not a habit I can easily forget.” She put a hand on the chef’s shoulder. “And I like seeing the smile on people’s faces after they’ve tasted what I’ve made. Isn’t that one of the main reasons why many of you wanted to become chefs?”

 

“Yes Ma’am,” she replied, visibly coloring as she dipped her head slightly. “What do you need?” Robin brightened at her words, glad for the cooperation.

 

“Where’s Robin?” Sofia looked around, wondering if the blonde was just behind Chrom.

 

“I’m… I’m not sure actually. She wasn’t in the room when I woke up. I thought maybe she’d already be in the dining room. She was rather… enthusiastic last night.” He grinned, leaving out the fact that to her eternal shame, blintzes and jams made her stay the night.

 

“Good morning!” Robin entered the room, holding a large serving dish filled with scrambled eggs, a wide smile on her face as she set it down in the center of the table. Behind her was the staff, each of them holding the rest of the breakfast spread and quietly setting down the plates. “I hope you all don’t mind but I made something to add.” Her cheeks reddened slightly.

 

“You can cook?” Sofia sounded pleased, making her way to the table and leaning over to inspect the eggs.

 

“A little. I mean, I’m no chef but I think I can make some pretty good food now and again.” Robin shifted in place.

 

“Hm.” Sirius picked up a fork and tasted the eggs, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he chewed thoughtfully. “Did you add a little sugar?” Robin’s head snapped towards the direction of her father-in-law.

 

“Just a little, to balance everything out. The cheese is creamy, but on the bland side, the bacon is salty, the herbs are there for a little freshness, and the lemon for some brightness,” she replied quietly.

 

“Perhaps you can give the recipe to the chefs after breakfast? This is good.” Without so much as a glance to his new daughter, Sirius sat down and asked for some coffee.

 

Robin turned to look at Chrom, confused at what just happened, but the prince, who was not any more clued in to his father’s behavior, shrugged in response. Still, the fact that he liked her simple addition to breakfast made her heart warm. A slight smile played on Sofia’s lips as she took her seat, motioning to the other two to do the same.

 

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“Are you alright Ma’am?” Cordelia looked up from her notebook to find Robin slumped over her desk, decidedly unbecoming of her new station but the redhead chose to say nothing. They were in private and the princess was probably overwhelmed.

 

“How many more resumes am I supposed to look at?” Robin groused, not lifting her head from the table.

 

“Um, there’s still the matter of your household’s head steward and your chef. For your personal staff, you need to select from among the highly recommended bodyguards and choose a list of perhaps two to three names for a rotation of stylists and makeup artists for your formal events Ma’am.” Cordelia ducked her head to avoid the undoubted reaction of the new princess: her body straightening and her eyes snapping towards her.

 

“How come they weren’t just… you know… chosen or appointed?” If Cordelia felt insulted, she didn’t let it show. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just why do I suddenly have to make all these decisions?”

 

“It’s alright Ma’am, I understand this can be very overwhelming.” The redhead smiled, and to Robin’s relief, not the fake kind that didn’t reach her eyes. “I was trained for this position, preparing for it ever since I was taken into Frederick’s care. My job, first and foremost, is to support you in all of your endeavors and try to make things as easy as they can be for you, and the prince should it be a joint event.”

  


“I suppose. And you had to choose your own staff as well?” The blonde tilted her head slightly, considering Cordelia’s words carefully.

 

“Some, not all. Everyone knew Prince Chrom would eventually marry, so the transition had been slow and steady.” Cordelia took in a deep breath. “If I may be frank?”

 

“Please.”

 

“Much like you, Ma’am, I’m scared that everything is too much and heaven forbid I make a mistake. Whatever wrong I make is going to ultimately reflect on you so I understand how these things can be… trying to say the least. So you can imagine for roles such as mine, utmost care and precision must be taken in order to make sure the right people are supporting you in all matters public.” She smiled wryly as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “But I like the challenge and to serve the Crown in any capacity is something of a badge of honor for me.”

 

“Thank you,” Robin said quietly, dipping her head slightly. They were both sacrificing much, perhaps Cordelia even more so because she was dedicating her life to the service of the royal family, maybe even to the detriment of her own personal life.

 

“As for the rest of the positions we’ve been discussing, they are no less important but cater far more to your personal preferences, so they thought it best that you and your husband make the final decision as relevant,” Cordelia explained, waving a hand over the resumes on the table between them. “Your bodyguard… well, they have to be someone you like. They are, after all, charged with your safety so we can’t have someone you don’t get along with doing the job.”

 

“You make a lot of sense you know,” Robin laughed, her worries somehow lessening because of the easy conversation, or as easy as it could get, between them. Just when she was going to ask more about the chef they had been discussing, a sharp rap on the door distracted them.

 

“Oh, sorry. Was I disturbing?” Chrom leaned on the door jamb, arms crossed with an easy smile on his face.

 

“Oh, Your Royal Highness.” Cordelia stood up and bowed. “No, it’s alright. We were just about to take a break.” Robin shot her a grateful look. “Ma’am, I’ll be back in about thirty minutes. Would you like anything upon my return?”

 

“Water please.”

 

Cordelia bowed and quickly excused herself.

 

“So.” Chrom closed the distance between them and slumped on the chair across Cordelia’s.

 

“So.” She turned her attention towards the prince.

 

“My mother told me something interesting, some plans for the next month or so.” He reached out and rest his hand above hers, his fingers curling over them but thumb grazing the back of her hand. He smiled inwardly when she made no motion to pull away.

 

“And, pray tell, what did your mother say?” She raised her brow, suspicious of the playfulness in his voice.

 

“My birthday is at the end of next month,” he said plainly.

 

“Oh and did you want a gift, Your Royal Highness? Is this your way of letting me know?” She couldn’t help the teasing tone and her amusement.

 

“Well, we do expect a gift from our wife.” He grinned, pulling her hand and kissing each fingertip, eyes still gazing at her with a mischievous shine.

 

“Practicing the royal we now?” Robin laughed, thankful for the reprieve.

 

“Eh, no one’s here but us. I can do whatever I want!” he exclaimed, turning his body to face hers, forearms resting on the table but never letting go of her hand. “But yes. Mother insists on something… a little more spectacular than usual, this being my first birthday as a married man after all.” The light bounced off their rings as he shifted their hands slightly. “Not a very big affair, just us, Emm and her family, Lissa, and a few close friends is all.”

 

“Oh? That just sounds like a normal birthday party except filled with royals and nobles instead.”

 

“Yeah and mother wants you to play some pieces on the piano.” She stared at him, surprised. “I want you to play some pieces. You’re very good you know. Even father was impressed.” At his words she visibly colored, cheeks running hot.

 

“What, no! I can’t play in front of a crowd.” She tried to pull her hand away in protest but his grip was sure and firm.

 

“You played in front of the King and Queen of Ylisse.”

 

“Yes but… but that was me thinking of them just as my in-laws!”

 

“They are never anything less than the ruling monarchs of our country at all times, you know that.” Chrom smiled gently, trying to relax her. “And if you must know, they have incredibly high standards and you, my dear, are well above what they ever hoped for me.” He leaned over, kissing her tenderly on the lips. “They like you far more than they like me.” He laughed, settling back down on his seat.

 

“You… you think so?” She bent her head, embarrassed.

 

“I know so.”

 

“A-anyway! What are the other plans your mother mentioned?”

 

“Have you ever gone to the ballet?” He suddenly sounded pensive.

 

“One of my friends dances ballet, so I’ve seen some pieces when I watched her recitals.”

 

“Oh good. The new season of the Ylisstol Ballet is going to start soon and Mother is the patron. She’s invited us to go with them to watch them on opening night.” Chrom watched her smile, her look rather nostalgic like she was remembering her childhood with her friend.

 

“Oh okay. I’d like that. My friend is a dancer in the Ylisstol Ballet now actually.”

 

“Oh? Perhaps you can ask her to teach you how to dance.” His eyes glinted, darkening just a little.

 

“What? Why would I need to know how to dance?”

 

“Did I forget to mention that there will be dancing on my birthday? You know, everyone watching us as we take to the floor for the first dance of the night?”

 

“You withheld that from me on purpose!” Robin half-shouted, red faced and in utter shock as she pulled her hand away from him. Chrom couldn’t help but break out into peals of laughter, collecting himself just enough to move towards Robin. She backed away from him, cheeks burning for probably the umpteenth time that morning, not realizing she had nowhere to move when her back hit the wall with a soft thud.

 

“Nowhere to go love.” He grinned as he towered over her, hands bracing on either side of her head.

 

“I hate you,” she mumbled, but no strength to her words as she looked away.

 

“Mmm.” Chrom ignored her as he bent his head, kissing the soft spot just under her ear. “I think you’d look great dancing across the floor, like an angel,” he whispered against her skin. Robin shut her eyes, wondering how on earth she got married to such a lovesick fool who was going to be king someday.

  
_‘Well, better a lovesick fool than someone who cared nothing about me.’_ He was growing on her, that much she was ready to admit, but only if asked. She felt he was the kind of man who was given an inch but would take a mile and she just wasn’t ready for that yet, even if this thing between them was getting more and more comfortable. _‘Just you wait mister. I’m so going to get back at you for this!’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine Chrom and Robin’s residence like William and Catherine’s, Apartment 1A in Kensington Palace. Which is basically a 20-room building lol. I have no idea what you do with 20 rooms. I mean: kitchen, dining, living, study (or two), a number of bedrooms (both personal and guest)… but that doesn’t make 20 rooms so xD
> 
> Also, the first movement of Vivaldi’s Spring is one of my favorites to listen to so of course Robin knows how to play this (when I decided for her to know how to play the piano).
> 
> For the title Liam (Emmeryn’s husband), Chiron is a centaur known for his knowledge and skill in healing. And since he’s a doctor… well it fits.
> 
> Chances are I will be alternating updates between this and Ink and Moonshine. The only reason I was able to upload for both fics last week was because I’d been working on this on and off for a while. That and classes have already started so writing time will definitely be cut short.
> 
> But…! Some of my favorites are (hopefully) showing up next chapter yaaaas <3
> 
> As usual, your kudos and comments are my lifeblood <3


	3. Of Preparations and Thoughtful Gestures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this chapter. Robin suffers much in this. ~~sorrynotsorry~~ Also apparently every time I think I’m going to cut down on the number of words (and sections) in a chapter, nope my fingers just end up typing over 7k words. Not that I think any of you guys are complaining xD

“Yes?” A mostly platinum blond head poked out of the door, the ultra pale yellow gradually turning into a bright, punchy purple to go with the high fade quiff he had going on, the dye coloring the nearly completely shorn hair by his temples, above his ears, and his nape. His clear bluish purplish eyes warmed and his mouth quirked up when his gaze flitted downwards. “Ah, ma cherie! I’m so glad to see you.” He pulled her in close, ignoring the sudden shock of people behind her, kissing both her cheeks before standing back. “Come in come in! Did you have a hard time finding this place?”

 

“No, your directions were very easy to follow.” Robin shook her head as she followed him inside, her bodyguard and chauffeur following closely behind but keeping a respectable distance between them. “Oh, this is my bodyguard, Lon’qu.” She stepped aside, watching as Jean appraised the dark haired man, the blond giving him a slow, almost appreciative once over. If Lon’qu was at all uncomfortable, he showed no signs of it.

 

“Can I get you two anything? Some bubbly perhaps?” He had a cheerful lilt in his voice as he propped one hand on his hip, the other rubbing his clean shaven chin.

 

“No thank you,” Lon’qu replied curtly, standing just to the side of the couch Robin sat down on.

 

“What are we celebrating?” Robin asked, curious. If Lon’qu disapproved of her choice in drinking some champagne, he kept his opinion to himself. His stoicism made her wonder if she’d gone with the right person. Cordelia spoke highly of his dedication, though there was the matter of his nervousness when speaking with women. Which would have been a serious problem, since she was one, but after his performance on a simulation to ascertain his abilities, any doubts were quickly put to rest. He was willing to die for his charge, man or woman, and the clarity of his decision making process was unencumbered by his gynophobia.

 

“My possibly getting a princess for a client!” Jean chimed, smiling brightly. “I’ve worked with Princess Emmeryn and Queen Sofia a couple of times before, but they’ve never contacted me directly. You, ma cherie, are the first one.”

 

“You are an odd bird you know,” Robin laughed. “But no thank you. If you could make a Cinderella please?”

 

“Fitting choice don’t you think,” he said with mirth but nodded just the same. “So, what can I do for you ma cherie? You said you needed help from both me and my husband.” Soft clacks of heels against the wooden floor rang through. “Speak of the devil.” Another man arrived, with slicked back chestnut hair that shone with reddish hues in the light, the sides cropped short. “Mon amour!” Jean approached his husband and turned him around. “This is the woman I told you would come today, the prince’s wife, Robin.”

 

Bright green eyes regarded the princess, a strange combination of a sense of ease and nervousness building in the pit of her stomach. “Bella! How wonderful it is to meet you.” He smiled, waltzing his way to sit in the armchair beside Robin. “My name is Giulio Riviere-Marchesi.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it.

 

“Do the pair of you make it a point not to call anyone by their names?” she asked, amused at how similar they seemed to be at the outset.

 

“It makes our clients more comfortable,” Jean replied, shrugging, handing Robin her Cinderella and choosing to sit beside her. 

 

“It’s just a little harmless flirting anyway. We’re terrible, we just have so much fun doing it,” Giulio replied cheekily, wagging his eyebrows and grinning. “Many a girl has fallen for our charms but alas, we don’t see women in that way.

 

“Heartbreakers,” the blonde accused teasingly.

 

“Proud to wear that label Ma’am!” they chimed.

 

“Now you address me as protocol dictates,” Robin laughed, relishing in the coolness of the glass in her hands. Something about these two made her relax.

 

“So, to the matter at hand bella!” The red head sunk into his chair, his elbows propped up on the armrests, clasped hands covering the lower half of his face. “What can we do for you? Jean says you require not only his services, but mine as well.”

 

“There are… a couple of events I have to go to in May,” Robin said quietly, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. “As you may well know, the queen is the patron of the Ylisstol Ballet and the new season will start next month.”

 

“I take it you and your darling husband have been invited?” Jean smiled, his eyes twinkling like he already had plans on how to doll up the newest princess. 

 

“I was hoping you were free then to do my hair and makeup?”

 

“But of course!” Jean pulled Robin into an embrace, kissing the top of her head. The smaller blonde laughed, the barest hint of his stubble tickling her slightly. She hoped Lon’qu wasn’t dying inside as he watched this whole debacle. It had already been a few days since he had started but she still couldn’t get a read on him. “And the other event?” Robin pulled on Jean’s upper arm slightly, fingers curling as she turned to face Giulio as best she could.

 

“Well, my mother-in-law wants to hold a party for my husband’s birthday at the end of the month,” she explained slowly. Giulio quirked a brow at her words. “And there will be dancing and I don’t know how.” She ducked her head in time to avoid the widening smile on the red head’s face.

 

“Oh?” He had long retired from competitive dancing but helped train up and coming dancers, the multiple times he won at Blackfox a testament to his skill.

 

Robin swallowed. Giulio’s voice was positively dripping with fascination. She blinked when she felt the space beside her dip and another set of arms drape themselves just over Jean’s.

 

“What would you like to learn? The Rumba?” Giulio laughed at how quickly Robin turned red as she shook her head.

 

“N-no need! Just the two waltzes, maybe the quickstep and the foxtrot if there’s time,” she mumbled quietly. She hung her head forward as the two men started to laugh, peeling themselves away from her as they clutched their stomachs. “Not funny guys!”

 

“Oh yes it is ma cherie! You’re as red as a tomato right now.” Jean wiped away the tears from his eyes.

 

“Bella, it’s decided. You’re our favorite. Give us a call any time you need help or just want company.” Giulio kissed her cheek. “And it will be my pleasure to teach you how to dance.”

 

She turned regard the red head, a dubious expression on her face.

 

“My offer still stands if you want to learn the Rumba,” he said with a grin.

 

Robin groaned, hiding her face in her hands. Even if she were interested, where would she even have the opportunity to dance any of the livelier, or sexier, styles anyway? She didn’t need any reminding that the royal family always held some modicum of propriety and being conservative at all times. But a small part of her did actually think if she were truly and honestly in love with Chrom, maybe a bit of a performance in the privacy of their bedroom wasn’t such a bad idea.

 

Jean and Giulio shot each other amused grins when they noticed how red her ears had gotten, steam rising from her skin. She was thinking of something and they could only hazard a guess as to how risqué is was.

 

Lon’qu watched the entire thing unfold with hardly any change to his expression. The couple seemed a bit too flirtatious but were otherwise harmless. They seemed happy in their union and they obviously didn’t hold any romantic attraction towards the princess, the pair of them just devilishly pleased with how easy it was to tease Robin.  _ ‘This is the first time I’ve seen her this relaxed so I guess it’s not all bad.’ _

 

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“Lon’qu?” Robin propped her elbow up on the side, cheek resting on her palm as she watched the people walking outside.

 

“Yes Ma’am?” He flicked his eyes to the rearview briefly before turning his attention back on the road.

 

“How did you find Jean and Giulio?” She adjusted her position to face forwards, her eyes glancing over to her only other companion in the car. The rest of her small retinue in the car in front and behind theirs. There was a pregnant pause after she had asked. Her brown eyes trained themselves on the rearview, barely catching Lon’qu’s. Before she could repeat her question, he answered.

 

“Interesting, to say the least.” Lon’qu paused again. “It is good they are married to each other, lest I draw my gun at them for being far too familiar with you, Ma’am.”

 

Robin laughed, amused at her companion’s frankness. He didn’t say much but when he did, it was always to the point, no frills or fuss.

 

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Robin pushed the door open to Chrom’s, their, bedroom in Ylisstol Castle. With all the furniture that needed to be brought in and finishing work being done in Thallo Palace, it was almost impossible to live there. Sofia insisted that they stay for the time being, having already been a few days since they arrived from their honeymoon. They already picked out some more clothes to last them until the renovations were over, scheduled to be finished just after Chrom’s birthday. With the day she’s had and sudden thoughts of their new home popping up in her head, she was exhausted, kicking her heels off and throwing herself on the chaise lounge across from their bed. She hit the plush upholstery with a soft thud.

 

“That’s not very ladylike.” Chrom snapped his book shut and raised an eyebrow, his tone not at all reprimanding.

 

“Thinking about when you can move in to your supposedly new home and being sandwiched by two beautiful men can do that to you,” she grumbled, lifting her head to press her chin down on the seat. “Apparently I’m very fun to play with.”

 

“Two… beautiful men?” He nearly leapt out of bed but held himself back, thinking there was a logical explanation to how his wife found herself the center of attention of men who were not him. A small fire of jealousy started to build as he tossed the book aside and stepped down from the mattress. He turned to face her in time to see a lazy wave of her hand, as though she were brushing the whole matter aside.

 

“I spent the afternoon with my makeup artist for the wedding,” Robin explained, crawling forward slightly to let her upper body rest more easily on the couch, her knees bent and feet pulled under her. It felt like she was in one of those afternoon dramas, where someone was going to wax poetic about all their troubles only for the audience to realize they were of hardly any import. Still, she was mentally exhausted and didn’t particularly mind how petty and dramatic she looked and felt right now. “And his husband, who’s a world class ballroom dancer. You know how many times he won at Blackfox? Ten. Ten! Apparently that’s the record.” She paused. “They’re absolute darlings, if you get over the fact they’re pretty handsy but they’re madly in love with each other so in the end, I felt like I was a doll being passed around, but a doll they absolutely loved and cherished. So there’s that.”

 

All tension seemed to leave Chrom’s body when she mentioned her makeup artist was married to a male ballroom dancer.  _ ‘Ah, so that’s why two beautiful men.’ _ Even if they were handsy. The small fire of jealousy was snuffed out at the thought of his wife being fawned over with absolute and teasingly devilish delight. The thought drew a smile to his face, Chrom more than happy that she had a good afternoon, even if she was currently complaining about it. He shook his head as he walked over, stopping right above her head. He tried not to laugh but it really looked like a scene pulled out from a soap opera. He appraised her appearance, one arm stretched across his torso, one hand supporting his other elbow, his thumb and index finger on the other one resting on the sides of his chin. “This is really unladylike you know. What do you think Frederick will say?”

 

A cold shiver ran down Robin’s spine. He may be Chrom’s private secretary but he insisted on making sure that she knew how to walk and sit properly, how to eat and drink, knowing what plate or utensil to use in the table setting per course. She wondered if he’d been someone’s valet in a past life, clucking like a mother hen and worse than any mother-in-law she could have imagined if his lord’s wife did anything that didn’t resemble proper etiquette. 

 

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed, looking up at her husband with flame in her eyes, only to see the dancing light in his. “Don’t you dare tell Frederick about this!”

 

“Or else?” He crouched low, sitting on his haunches, their faces just inches apart.

 

Robin huffed, burying her face back into the cushion. It’s not like she had any leverage but she hoped pouting would work. She heard him chuckle, feeling his soft touch along her hair as he let his fingers follow the blonde locks from the roots to the tip. He chose the path just beside her spine, almost leaving a low burning fire in its wake. When she turned her head to face him, his other hand darted out quickly as he picked her up, carrying her princess style.

 

“Put me down!” she squeaked, surprised at the sudden turn of events.

 

“I was just teasing, love,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, settling himself down in the corner of the couch. He let her slide slowly against him, her body quarter turned towards him, one hand supporting the small of her back, the other resting on the base of her skull. “Just teasing,” he repeated with a quiet whisper.

 

Robin harrumphed but started to close her eyes, appreciative of the warmth and tenderness of his embrace. Not that she would ever admit that to him aloud, otherwise it would bloat his ego. This was as much of an inch as she would give him for tonight.

 

“How was your day?”

 

Robin tilted her head back slightly, peering up at him. He smiled, his eyes gentle, leaning forward and pressing his lips against her forehead.

 

“Tiring,” she mumbled quietly, dipping her head back down and pressing her cheek against his chest. “But fun. Jean and Giulio, terrible as they might be, actually made me feel like a normal person again.”

 

“Normal?” He flexed and curled the fingers that were against her head, a slow and gentle massage.

 

“Like I’m not a trussed chicken.”

 

“You call yourself that a lot, love.”

 

“Well, it’s how I feel most of the time,” she admitted, not daring to look up and see the expression on his face. Would there be hurt? Probably. She still didn’t like all the attention directed her way simply because she was the wife of the future king. “Don’t you ever get tired of it? All the scrutiny?”

 

“I do, but it’s easier to deal with now.” He pressed his knee against her back, moving the hand that was there to her chin. He tipped her head back, her hair falling like a waterfall over his legs.

 

“What makes you say that?” She was genuinely curious, wondering if it was something she could try to help deal with everything.

 

“I have you to come home to,” he said without any flourish. He smiled at her reaction: cheeks dusted with pink, her lips parted slightly, her eyes widening. “My lovely little trussed chicken of a wife,” he murmured, angling his head to capture her mouth. He managed to catch the amused smile on her lips before his eyes closed.

 

Robin unclenched the hand she didn’t realize was crumpling his shirt, snaking it around his neck to pull him down and make it easier to return the kiss. If he continued to say things like that, there was no way she wouldn’t fall in love with him sooner rather than later. She found she minded the idea just a little bit less.

 

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“We hope everything so far is up to your standard, Sir, Ma’am,” the older, more experienced of the pair said, trying her hardest not to keep shifting her weight to the balls of her feet, back to the heels, and forward again. It was terrifying to even send their small company’s resume for consideration to work on the finishing touches of a royal residence, even more so now that they had been in constant contact with the royals. Although to be precise, more the private secretaries, or one of the deputies anyway, of their staff but to be in a room with them again two weeks after they last met made their stomachs turn. They were an up and coming design firm, having been tapped to do the interiors of trendy offices and a few houses of famous people, but obviously none quite as famous, or grand, as a member of the royal family. Though their work in the palace would never make it into their portfolio, the mere fact that they had worked with the Prince and Princess of Ylisstol was prestige enough.

 

“Yes, thank you for your work.” Chrom nodded, loosening the twine of their fingers just a little bit, the habit of holding hands when they were out and about together slowly being built much to his pleasure. He watched Robin from the corner of his eye, the blonde moving to rest a hand on the rich wood of the dining table. It was an heirloom piece, commissioned by one of his forefathers soon after the palace was built. It was large but unimposing, drawing everyone’s attention as the centerpiece where they would all gather around for a meal. “Would you care to have something to eat before you go? I’m sure the kitchen staff has something they can make.” Even though they didn’t live here, yet, there was some sort of skeleton crew up until the work was completed. Or the new heads of different aspect of their household came by to start work on what was undoubtedly going to be the daily routine.

 

“Oh no, that’s very kind of you to offer Sir but we’re fine,” the older designer raised her hands to politely refuse. “We have to go back to the office after this actually.”

 

“Are we keeping you?” Robin turned around in her place.

 

“Not at all Ma’am!” The young man who had stayed quiet until then shook his head vehemently. “It’s just we wouldn’t want to impose.” His voice was small, head bowed down slightly but peeking at the royals through his lashes.

 

“It’s not an imposition at all.” Robin smiled kindly, choosing then to let go of her husband’s hand as she walked towards the kitchens, the soft tap of her boots loud in the quiet of the grand room. She paused before turning around to face the two designers. “How many are you in your office?”

 

“About thirty Ma’am,” the older woman supplied.

 

“Come along then. I don’t have arms enough to carry food for that many people,” she said, jerking her head towards the adjoining kitchens.

 

“Go. She’s not going to take no for an answer,” Chrom laughed, shooing the astounded designers. The pair of them bowed before scurrying off after Robin, leaving the prince to his own devices. He looked at the unfurled plans on the table, seating himself comfortably as his hands roamed over the drawings.

 

The first floor remained largely untouched. He was in the large dining room where more formal gatherings could be held, or larger ones as the case may be. Next to it was the large kitchens, a door leading out to the gardens where they grew some produce. To the other side of it was a smaller dining room, for cozier and more personal use and much easier to maintain for their daily meals. The living room was open and spacious, perfect for entertaining guests after meals, a perfect view of the distant gardens during the day and the almost ethereal lights in the evenings. There was also a smaller den next to their private dining room, a small place where they could work and do their last minute checks before they set out for their business for the day. One room was like a small ballroom, a place to dance and have friendly small talk while waiting for the main event. The two remaining rooms up front had been converted to a gallery of sorts, by his grand aunt, various paintings, sculptures, and photographs on display.

 

The second floor was designed more for casual entertainment: their personal studies, a small library, a more intimate drawing room with a piano off to one side, a game room with a small bar set up, and some guest bedrooms. The third floor was where most of the work was being done, where all the bedrooms were. They had their own bedroom, the largest of them all, a few rooms set up with beds as well decorated just enough to be easily changed to suit a future prince or princess who’d occupy the quarters. They had a play and family room set up as well as a separate study area for the children when they were old enough to need one.

 

He smiled as he ran his hand across the lines and letters. This was home. In a couple of weeks yet but it was home.

 

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“Where are we going? Is this why I’m wearing pants and boots?” Robin asked, laughing as she let herself be led by Chrom. The palace grounds were closed today, out of respect for the privacy of the newly married couple. There were portions that were public and they were headed to one now, the visitors likely to gawk at and crowd them should they be seen, the crowd probably large since the tourist count was at its highest during the spring, when much of the plants were colorful and in bloom.

 

He didn’t answer, far too excited.

 

“Chrom!”

 

The stables were in plain view from where they were now, Robin’s eyes widening ever so slightly.

 

“I said the stables were here didn’t I?” he turned back to face her, a stupid shit eating grin on his face.

 

“Your Royal Highnesses.” The stable master looked like he could be one of their old, but not too much, wizened uncles. “Have you come to inspect the horses?”

 

“You said the horses have finally been broken?” Robin glanced towards their hands. His was shaking with excitement.

 

“Ah, yes Sir. The Arabians are ready to be trained for the races, though unfortunately the same can’t be said for the Thoroughbreds. This batch is a rather plucky bunch I have to say.” The older man laughed wryly.

 

“I was thinking of reducing your racehorses by one though,” Chrom said as he gazed towards Robin. “For the princess. It seems she’s ridden a few times and enjoyed it.” The blonde blushed slightly as she ducked her head, all too aware of the fatherly gaze of the stable master.

 

“Are you in need of lessons Ma’am?” He ushered them towards the stables.

 

“A refresher might help.” She let go of Chrom’s hand, walking beside the stable master as he started to introduce some of the staff and the animals.

 

Most of the horses were trained for racing, dressage, or show jumping, a large number of the animals Arabians or Thoroughbreds. A few of the horses in the stables were meant for pleasure riding, the wide open spaces in the palace grounds perfect for a leisurely ride. By the time they reached the third stall, Robin was half listening to the stable master, captivated by the large brown eyes of colt inside. The gray haired man turned around, a satisfied smile on his face as he watched the princess tentatively reach out to the horse.

 

“He’s beautiful,” she murmured, fascinated as the horse nudged her hand and sniffed.

 

“He’s a beaut that one. He was easy to break and seems to be quick to the draw. Rather even tempered too. Quite a handsome Arabian this one.”

 

“Does he have a name?” She turned to face the stable master, but hand still on the muzzle of the horse. Chrom smiled, arms crossed as he watched the whole thing unfold before him. She had been excited to see the horses, amazed by their raw beauty.

 

“Sunlit Damask by Pharaoh’s Might out of Jeweled Circlet.”

 

“Sounds poetic and needlessly complicated,” Robin said dryly but with a touch of humor.

 

“I can go further back if you wish Ma’am.” His eyes twinkled.

 

“No need. Too much poetry and chaos I think,” she said offhandedly, gaze focused back on the beast in front of her. The Arabian had a light chestnut coloring, reddened in some angles, golden in others, his mane and tail flaxen. There were white markings on all four legs, extending to the knees and the hocks, were of varying, but aesthetically pleasing, lengths. There was a white diamond nestled between his eyes, the bottom point thinning out as it extends and stops midway on the bridge of the nose. “Phoebus.”

 

“Ma’am?”

 

“Sunlit Damask is too long and too stuffy a name. I’d like to call him Phoebus, if I can have him,” she explained, drawing her hand back as she turned to face the stable master.

 

“Of course Ma’am,” he said as he bowed. “I’ll have him moved to the stall beside the prince’s horse after having it cleaned out.”

 

Chrom’s own horse was an Arabian as well, a year older than Phoebus, with a gray, almost silver-white coat. His mane and tail were silver gray, the monotony of its coloring was broken by the dark gray muzzle, similar markings extending halfway through each leg starting from the hoof. Robin laughed at their penchant for naming the animals with needlessly poetic and complicated names. This one was Silvered Quartz by Intrepid Night out of Moonlit Snow. Or, as Chrom affectionately called him, Argent.

 

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He liked their evening ritual, curling up in bed and leaning against each other after they showered, the TV on but the volume low to catch snippets of the day’s news, or whatever food show was on that Robin wanted to watch. They married almost midway through April and it had been almost a month since then. The princess was reading a book, her head against his shoulder as her fingers ran horizontally across the pages just under the line that had her attention. Her hair was almost dry, the scent of lemons and flowers strong as he breathed in. Half paying attention, his eyes were focused on the screen as he pulled her in closer, sliding down slightly in bed. He didn’t even notice her snapping her book, setting the bound pages aside and shutting off her lamp, turning up to look at him when she curled into his side.

 

“Hey Chrom?” Her voice was quiet, a little sleepy.

 

“Mm?” He switched off the TV and put the remote on the side table. “Sleepy already?” He twisted himself towards her, staring back at her endless cinnamon eyes.

 

“What’s your favorite kind of cake?”

 

“What?” He felt stupid for such a reaction but his mind was blanking.

 

“You heard me. What’s your favorite kind of cake?” she repeated but no trace of irritation in her voice. Only kindness.

 

“Vanilla chiffon cake with caramel icing or chocolate cake with caramel mocha filling and fudge icing,” he said almost automatically.

 

“Two?” she teased, pulling away slightly to better look at his face.

 

“It depends on when I’m eating it, what the food was right before, lots of things I’ll have you know!” he defended, frowning and trying to glare at his wife but the redness of his cheeks toned his expression down.

 

“So which would you eat when?” Robin pressed her forehead against him, tracing idle patterns on his chest as she felt her eyelids start to droop.

 

“If I want something light, the vanilla caramel cake I guess.” He shrugged, turning just a bit to switch off his lamp before draping his arm over her. “The chocolate if I want to indulge a little bit.” Their legs started to tangle beneath the blankets. “Why?”

 

“Good night,” she murmured, purposefully ignoring is question as she shifted herself upwards, kissing him softly right beside his lips before curling back into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist. Her lips ticked upwards into a self-satisfied smile as plans started to whirl in her head, eyes falling closed and breath evening out.

 

He blinked once.

 

Twice.

 

Thrice.

 

That was the first time Robin had ever initiated a kiss, sweet and chaste, but a kiss nevertheless. He was thankful for the darkness that had settled in the room, hiding just a bit of the redness that had bloomed on his face.  _ ‘Just what is she up to?’ _

 

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“That’s. Um. That’s a lot of dresses.” Robin glanced wide eyed at the dress racks pulled out from somewhere.

 

“Nothing but the best for the dear wife of Prince Chrom!” 

 

The blonde glanced at the designer, a sweet smile on her face as she ushered the princess forward. Just before they met, Cordelia had told her the designer was Frederick’s wife Cherche and like him, had known the royal family for years. Her own mother had been a favorite designer of the queen, though she made accessories more than dresses. 

 

“Yes but three racks? Wasn’t that a bit much to bring over?” Robin laughed, amused as she stepped forward, reaching out and letting her fingers move across the various silks, satins, chiffons, and laces.

 

“When you sent over the pictures of things you could imagine yourself wearing, darling, I was over the moon! Your style very much coincides with mine I’d like to think.” Cherche glanced at the princess knowingly, eyes appraising her as though imagining what cuts, fabrics, and colors would suit her best. She had an idea, having seen various pictures of Robin already, but facing the real thing was different, more informative.

 

“Darling? Not Ma’am like everyone else?” Robin raised her arms as directed by Cherche.

 

“Oh was I mistaken that you preferred a more casual address? I apologize.” The pink haired woman looked up, solemn.

 

“No no I don’t mind at all!” Robin was quick to reassure her. It had barely even been five minutes and she decided she quite liked Cherche already. “Please, call me whatever you like just not Ma’am whenever possible. I don’t like feeling being called ‘Ma’am’ or ‘Your Royal Highness’ gives off. It’s like there’s a threshold between us that can’t be crossed.”

 

Cherche smiled brightly and nodded, patting her elbows to let her know she could put them down.

 

“Are you comfortable in heels?”

 

“Not too high. I usually wear between two and three inches.” Robin watched as Cherche moved towards the rack filled with darker colored dresses, carefully considering which ones to pull out. “I’m a big fan of your label you know. Never thought I’d ever get to wear your clothes.”

 

“I guess you never thought you’d be a princess either. You never know!” She smiled, pulling out a dark purple dress. “Try this one on. I think you’d look great in it. I’ll help you with the shoes after.”

 

“This one’s beautiful,” Robin breathed, a little shy when she came out but started to twirl around slightly to let the asymmetrical layers float. It was a deep plum one-shouldered gown, the strap covering most of her right shoulder but still exposing the curve. There was fine ruching and pleating starting from that strap, the satin material of the top ending just by her waist, cinched in by a belt of the same fabric but with horizontal pleating. Her skirt was made of layers and layers of a deep plum tulle, falling gracefully to the floor, the top layer airy and floating slightly, the hem folded under to create a bit of visual texture. Her shoes were simple, mostly covered by the skirts anyway: just a pair of three inch open toe nude pumps.

 

“I just need to take it in slightly and shorten the hem but it’s a very good look for you darling,” said Cherche as she took out some tailors chalk, pinching in a little bit of the fabric and marking it, securing the fold with some pins afterwards. “Just the right amount of elegance and classic lines but with a modern twist. It’ll look great at the ballet.”

 

“Yeah, I love these kinds of pieces.” Robin admired the dress in the mirror, turning her head around to look at the back.

 

“Need any help getting out of that one? I took the liberty of choosing the second dress while you were changing.” Cherche pointed to the separated dress and sandals by their side.

 

“Oh, I think I can handle it myself. But if you don’t mind, could you take a picture of me in it?” Robin flushed slightly as she handed her phone over to Cherche. “I promised my makeup artist I’d take pictures so he can imagine a good look for me.”

 

The designer smiled knowingly, taking the device and snapping a few pictures from different angles before shooing her back to the dressing room to change into the second outfit.

 

“My dear you look absolutely wonderful in that dress!” Cherche exclaimed when Robin came out, pink eyes shining brightly. The sweetheart neckline cinched in her curves beautifully, exposing the gracefulness of her neck and shoulders. The dress itself was actually made of silver sequins, the shiny material made to look like stars glimmering in the night sky with the navy blue chiffon overlay. The pleating in the bustier darkened the chiffon in some places, covering the sequins completely with the opacity, the top layer of fabric fastened securely with a sash of the same material around her waist. The pleats continued just a few inches beneath the belt, flowing downwards with a delicate drape as it barely brushed the floor, the flowiness of the garment perfect for dancing. Her heels were simple: a navy satin sandal with one thin strap running just across her toes, another one wrapping around her ankle, the heels propping her up about three inches.

 

“You flatter me so,” laughed Robin, taking a spin just like she and Giulio had practiced. The chiffon overlay floated beautifully, the sequinned fabric deceivingly light as it danced alongside of the navy. “This feels wonderful and light and breezy, even if it is a dark color.”

 

“Your husband’s colors,” Cherche commented, putting her hands on Robin’s shoulders as she guided her to the mirror, taking some more of the requested pictures on the way. “You make a handsome couple, lovely and charming and sweet.”

 

“Thank you,” she murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear.

 

“I mean it!” Cherche kissed Robin’s cheek. “Don’t sell yourself short darling. No matter what they said, why they chose you to become his wife, Chrom loves you dearly and thinks the world of you. I saw it in his eyes when he asked me to come over and dress you.”

 

“Chrom did? I thought Cordelia was the one who arranged this.” Robin turned her head slightly, looking at Cherche with a mildly confused expression on her face.

 

“Cordelia may have been the one to finalize the schedule but he was the one who approached me first.” She patted the princess on the back. “Now go change, I’m sure you’d much rather be in more comfortable, casual clothes than dolled up like this.”

 

“If it means I get to wear more of your clothes, I’d gladly be dolled up just for you,” Robin laughed, making her way back to the room she changed in.

 

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“I didn’t expect you to be the one to pick me up. Isn’t that why Lon’qu was with me?” Robin turned to face her husband. Her bodyguard had been told to go home for the evening, the dark haired man stoic and unperturbed as ever at the new instructions.

 

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Chrom explained, reaching out and brushing her hair away from her forehead. Her blushes were less obvious now, something that disappointed him just a little bit. He liked her cute reactions, like she was a trapped rabbit. “Or, more precisely, he’s been harassing me to bring you over for dinner.”

 

“Uh oh. I don’t like the sound of that.” She frowned, crossing her arms.

 

“Nothing too bad,” he laughed. “Just an old friend. A childhood friend. He likes to think he’s my best friend actually.”

 

“That sounds troublesome.”

 

“You don’t know the half of it, love.” He kept his eyes on her, even if she’d turned away to look at the people on the streets. It was the little things she did that made him fall more in more in love: how she smiled kindly, her earnestness to learn (even if she hated Frederick’s etiquette lessons), how warm she was curled beside him in bed, how her personality was shining through and breaking free from her melancholy. She still hasn’t said anything about loving him, but he was getting there. He could feel it in his bones.

 

“Took you long enough to get here!”

 

Robin could feel a shiver run down her spine as they entered the foyer. She looked up, a familiar devious smile plastered on their host’s face, mischief dancing in his green eyes half hidden by his burnt umber hair. Ah.

 

“Robin this is Gai—”

 

“Bubbles!” Gaius cut Chrom off, almost leaping forward and pulling Robin into a crushing embrace. The prince stared, stunned. While they were in the privacy of Gaius’ home, shades appropriately down and effectively blocking the view from the outside, he didn’t expect such a casual greeting and an automatic nickname.

 

“Get off me you idiot!” Robin laughed, pushing the orange haired man away from her.

 

“How do you know each other?” Chrom asked, eyeing his friend, although the term was being used  _ very _ loosely at the moment, warily.

 

“You remember I told you I have a friend in the Ylisstol Ballet?” Robin smoothed her lilac blouse, ruffled by Gaius’ hold on her.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“He’s her boyfriend.”

 

“Hence the familiarity?”

 

“Unfortunately.” Robin stuck out a tongue, shoulders visibly relaxing.

 

“Huh. Small world.” Chrom regarded Gaius. He remembered the man mentioning his girlfriend was a dancer, not that they’ve ever met. Their schedules never quite matched up for whatever reason.

 

“Is Olivia here right now?” Robin tiptoed, trying to peer over Gaius’ shoulder to see if he was hiding her.

 

“Peaches is in the kitchen, getting the wine out.” He grinned, jerking his thumb over to the general direction of where Olivia was. Robin smiled brightly, eyes sparkling as she passed him by, but not before giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek.

 

“You knew, didn’t you?” Chrom sighed, a little exasperated, but happy to see Robin excited.

 

“Yeah. Peaches thought it’d be a nice surprise. Since the wedding was rather exclusive, she didn’t get to go and they haven’t seen each other in weeks.” Gaius shrugged, slinging an arm over Chrom’s shoulder as he guided the prince to the dining room. “Thought you wouldn’t mind if I kept quiet about it. Knowing Bubbles that is.”

 

“That you knew my wife before I did?” Chrom raised an eyebrow, hoping the slight note of jealousy wasn’t obvious.

 

“Jealousy’s not a good look on you Blue,” he teased.

 

Chrom groaned. What did he expect? Gaius was a terribly, efficiently observant man. Which was exactly why he was the one who fed him gossip and information of all kinds. The royal family’s power had long been reduced, but it never hurt to find out more about the people they were going to work with, the ones they had to be wary of, the ones they could potentially trust.

 

“Chrom, this is Olivia!” Robin clung to her friend, smiling from ear to ear.

 

“H-hello Your Royal Highness.” The dancer somehow managed to curtsey even with a grown woman attached to one arm.

 

“Please. Chrom. We’re in private,” he corrected, extending a hand towards the pink haired woman.

 

“A-alright. If you say so.” Olivia took his hand, shaking it firmly.

 

“I insist. Any friend of my wife is a friend of mine.” He caught her beaming smile out of the corner of his eye.

 

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“Bella, that was very good!” Giulio smiled warmly, patting her cheek affectionately.

 

“God I can’t believe you say you’re not in shape! If you’re not, what am I?” Robin laughed, collapsing on the hardwood floor.

 

“Please, you don’t give yourself enough credit. You learn quickly and have a natural sense for the music,” he replied blithely. “Were you involved in music in any way?”

 

“I used to play the piano. I mean, I still know how but I haven’t played much up until my mother-in-law convinced me to play a couple of weeks ago,” she admitted quietly, taking a long drink of water from her bottle.

 

“That explains why you would take to these styles more easily,” Giulio mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “There’s a lot of piano pieces that go well with these dances.” He caught sight of his husband out of the corner of his eye, Jean making various hand gestures by the glass section of the door telling them to come out. “Here, let me help you up bella. It seems my dear husband would like to have a word with you. Us. I don’t know, with someone in this room.” He let out a deep, amused chuckle.

 

Robin lifted her brow quizzically but accepted the dancer’s help.

 

“Please tell me you can book me a meeting with your designer, ma cherie!” Jean pulled Robin into a fierce embrace the minute they stepped out, unmindful of the sweat still clinging to her.

 

“I take it the dresses were very inspiring?” Robin laughed, any tiredness from dancing falling away. She enjoyed coming to the studio every other day, dancing without a care in the world. Maybe she’d take it up as a hobby, a way to unwind, a few times a month if she could spare it.

 

“I’d love to work with Cherche for an ad campaign or for the runway. Her style is phenomenal.”

 

“I’ll see what I can do.” She tiptoed and ruffled Jean’s hair as best she could.

 

“Oh, yes, your face charts!” The makeup artist pulled away, shuffling over to where he put the finished looks.

 

“See what I have to deal with?” Giulio glanced at her in dramatic fashion, but affection was obvious in his tone.

 

All Robin could do was laugh.

 

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“How you’re so good at this I will never know.” Robin ran a hand through her hair, all soft and fluffy and tangle free. Chrom smiled triumphantly, her brush still in hand.

 

“Useful little trick isn’t it?” He leaned forward, the pair of them still seated on the vanity bench, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. He noted her slight shiver.

 

“What would my hair ever do without you?” she said teasingly, dramatically, standing up and moving to the bed, but not before gently scratching her nails along his scalp.

 

“]I’m sure you’ll manage,” he said with a laugh, setting her brush down before following.

 

She rolled her eyes, amused.

 

“Hey Chrom?”

 

“Hm?” He climbed in, stifling a yawn.

 

“Is there anything I can do?”

 

He raised a brow, quizzical, turning to face her after he switched off the last remaining light in their room.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I feel like all I’m doing is playing house. Running around doing my own activities, making sure the renovations are running smoothly. It’s things I could have been doing anyway with or without getting married to you,” she whispers, letting herself be covered by his arms as he settled into his side of the bed.

 

“What do you want to do? There aren’t any state meetings or visits planned any time soon, so you don’t have to accompany me anywhere.”

 

“What do you do then?”

He hummed thoughtfully, breathing in the scent of her shampoo.

 

“I’m part of the army? Well I was.” he offered, trying to be helpful. “I went to a military academy, so I’ve been part of the armed forces since I was around eighteen or so, but I’ve resigned from active duty a couple of months before we got married. So since then, not much really.”

 

“Oh.” Robin’s face fell slightly.

 

“But Father has been talking about giving me some more royal duties, more of the civic ones. The government work, signing the papers, advising, discussing, he’s still in charge of, but there’s a lot of that these days so he doesn’t have nearly as much time for other things.” He lifted the ends of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers.

 

“Can we do something then for children?” She hoped she didn’t sound too presumptuous when she said ‘we.’

 

“What did you have in mind love?” His voice was soft as he looked down at the woman in his arms.

 

She spoke in hushed tones, her voice alight. She wanted a way to help children discover their passions and talents, a place where they could nurture whatever it was they had. She wanted to increase literacy levels, to instill a love of reading. She wanted to find a way to help single parents not have to worry about who was going to keep an eye on their children when they were at work. She wanted to make a difference in the lives of families because her mother, her dear sweet mother was all the family she had.

 

“And now you have a bigger one,” he murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear.

 

“A bigger what?” She didn’t dare to look up at him.

 

“Family, you have a bigger family. You have me, Father, Mother, Emm, Liam, Clair, Lissa. You have us all to count on too.”

 

She buried her face deeper into his chest, bright red from embarrassment and the warmth and sincerity of his words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason Robin blushes furiously when Giulio suggests the Rumba is because it’s known as the bedroom dance. Where basically the woman is seducing her lover to the bedroom and Robin just isn’t comfortable yet so LMAO ~~Can you tell that making her suffer with Jean and Giulio is so much fun???~~ Also, Blackfox is just a thing I made up to represent the [Blackpool Dance Festival](http://www.blackpooldancefestival.com/), the world’s first and most famous ballroom dance competition. So Black from Blackpool and Fox from Foxtrot so… Blackfox!
> 
> The two kinds of cakes Chrom mentioned are cakes that we actually often order for birthdays or celebrations here at home xD We order this [Caramel Cake](https://www.estrels.com/) and I can actually bake a mean chocolate cake with fudge icing and caramel filling but making that fudge icing by hand is a workout… so I don’t usually lol.
> 
> As for the dresses… I used [this one](https://www.vogue.com/fashion-shows/pre-fall-2011/monique-lhuillier/slideshow/collection#24) by Monique Lhuillier and found [this really pretty sparkly blue one](https://i.pinimg.com/474x/8f/ec/02/8fec02a24bde94696c04630458856af0.jpg) as well. I couldn’t find the designer or the shop for the second one, unfortunately orz But if any of you do know, please do tell me so I can edit this reference!
> 
> After researching what it is that royals do in life, especially British ones, I kind of feel like they just do whatever it is the hell they want. As long as they carry themselves with dignity and they do good stuff since their roles are more symbolic in nature, than actually wielding power like those in government. But because of their influence and how people generally tend to look at them as role models, they can do a lot of good! If you have any ideas or suggestions about royal duties that Chrom and Robin can undertake, I’d welcome them with open arms :D
> 
> As usual, your kudos and comments are my lifeblood <3


	4. I Could Have Danced All Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from the song ‘I Could Have Danced All Night’ from My Fair Lady.

Robin stood to one side, thankful for the excuse that the carpet was in the draftier section of the hallway, her bare arms and shoulders feeling the brunt of the cold. She had her shawl draped across one arm, clutch and hands hidden beneath the cashmere, but they’d go inside soon. Or so she had been promised, cinnamon gaze flicking over to the bar where her husband was standing with his (her?) brother-in-law. There was time for light snacks and some drinks before the performance started, enough time for the artistic directors to chat up possible donors and the members of the royal family, most of them scattered in the grand atrium.

 

“Chrom tells me you take mixed drinks instead of something on the rocks or neat.”

 

She lifted her eyes and found herself face to face with Liam, her brother-in-law’s (that’s what she decided he was to her) his countenance lighting up with an amiable smile, fingers curling around the rim of a low ball meant for her.

 

“Thanks.” She wrapped one hand around the base of the glass, lifting it to her lips for a taste. “What is it?” Robin savored the cold, sweet and sour warmth if that made any sense.

 

“Gold Rush garnished with a lemon twist and one of those fancy ice balls.” He chuckled lowly, taking a sip of his rum on the rocks. Just plain old rum on the rocks, but probably one of those top shelf brands Robin wagered. “Chrom said Naga so help him if I turned you into a rum fan.” Liam swirled the ice in his own glass for emphasis. He signalled for one of the roving waiters to come over, tray still full of all sorts of canapes. “So he went and got you a drink with bourbon, lemon, and honey. Spiked lemonade if you ask me.” He smiled again. “He would’ve given it to you himself if he hadn’t gotten accosted by a distant aunt.” Liam waved his hand in the general direction of the prince.

 

“He likes his bourbon.” Robin took another sip, maneuvering her clutch to under an arm, pinning it securely, as she took the offered plate of canapes, moving to one of the tall cocktail tables nearby to set her things down. “I like mixed drinks myself. Variety.”

 

“Hey, there are many different kinds of rum I’ll have you know!” Liam laughed in mock offense, brushing his sandy, honey blond hair from his forehead.

 

“I like experimenting with drinks. It was a thing for me and my mom.” Robin shrugged almost carelessly, nibbling at a cracker with smoked salmon, dill cream, and pickled shallots.

 

“Chrom says you’ve been to the ballet before?” Liam read the sadness in her eyes, changing the topic.

 

“I’ve seen ballet before. I can’t say I’ve been to the ballet.” Robin waved her hand to the area behind her. “My best friend dances ballet. For this one in fact.” She glanced around. “Where’s Emmeryn? I saw her with Clair earlier but I don’t see her around now.”

 

“Oh they went to the box already. Clair likes it there when it’s empty. Big enough for her to run around. Best to get her energy levels down now before the performance starts, don’t you think?” Liam set his low ball down, his eyes sparkling with an almost childish amusement and mischief.

 

“That makes sense.” Robin watched his clear blue eyes, somehow Chrom’s blue ones coming to mind. They were the same color, had that same sort of childish glee in them at times, but she found herself preferring the way the blue in her husband’s eyes danced. Like it was only that way because of her.

 

“I hope you’re not trying to convince Robin to take some of your rum.”

 

They turned their heads, the prince finally able to join them after finally shaking off his aunt.

 

“Alas, you shoved a Gold Rush in my hands before I could order a rum-based drink, like a Rum Swizzle,” Liam said dramatically.

 

Robin couldn’t help but laugh. Was it because Liam was an outsider like her that made it easier? He was a commoner, much like she was, but he’d been born into a better off family. How else was he able to show a medical degree before proposing to Emmeryn?

 

Chrom snorted.

 

“You’d do it if you could. Admit it.”

 

“As long as my wife shares my tastes in alcohol, the few times she does drink, I’ll be able to live with the knowledge you’ve corrupted dear Robin to preferring your sweet bourbon.” Liam smiled mischievously, his bangs falling over his eyes.

 

“Excuse me, rum is made from sugar cane,” the prince huffed.

 

“Oh come on, the show’s about to start.” Robin latched onto her husband’s arm, patting it gently, her skirts flouncing as she stepped closer. “And don’t you make Chrom pout Liam. I still have to deal with him after this is all said and done. You don’t.”

 

The Duke of Chiron stared at her, wide eyed and amused. “As you wish.” Liam had a treacherous smile on his face. “I like you by the way. We’ll have lots of fun the pair of us, trying to make life difficult for our dear prince.” He slapped Chrom’s upper back gamely.

 

“Oh I think so.” Robin’s eyes twinkled, the three of them walking in step as they made their way to the royal box.

 

“I pray I remember to never let the pair of you socialize when there’s alcohol involved,” the prince groaned, sandwiched between the two fair haired royals.

 

“You big baby.”

 

Safe from the prying eyes of photographers and journalists, Robin pressed a quick, reassuring kiss to Chrom’s cheek. Warmth bubbled inside her as she watched his cheeks glow faintly pink.

 

“Watch out Chrom. Looks like she’s got you wrapped around her pinky.”

 

Robin let go of his arm, smiling as Clair came out of the royal box and ran towards her newest aunt.

 

“She already does,” he replied softly, his gaze shining with affection as he watched Robin pick up the little girl and smother her with kisses, Clair laughing with unbridled glee.

 

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“Olivia!” Robin moved as quickly as she could, beaming as she embraced the dancer warmly. “That was a spectacular performance. I don’t know how you get better and better each time I see you dance.”

 

“You’re just saying that.” Olivia laughed lightly, her cheeks reddening just a tad.

 

“No, my parents quite enjoyed that.” Chrom came over, the stems of champagne flutes expertly balanced between his fingers. “Gaius?”

 

“Missed me Blue?” The oranged haired man swiped one of the glasses, downing the sweeter variety of bubbly in one go.

 

“Not particularly no,” the prince replied, rolling his eyes but with a tinge of amusement. “Never took you for the type to like these things.” He offered the remaining glasses to Olivia and Robin, thankful he had the foresight, and the skill, to get four.

 

“My girlfriend’s in it, so of course I’d come.” He shrugged, looping Olivia’s arm in his own. “I’m not sure I’d say I like going to the ballet but I like seeing her dance. It’s mesmerizing.”

  
Olivia blush turned deeper, head dipping down as she focused on the floor.

 

“I’ll drink to that. Olivia’s always been endlessly talented.” Robin smiled, peering over the rim of her glass.

 

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“Oh God, finally home.” Robin kicked off her shoes and slumped on the chaise lounge, wiggling her toes, the bottom of her dress pooling around her.

 

“Tired?” He tugged at his tie, undoing the silk but letting it stay around his neck.

 

“You try walking around, precariously, for hours on end. Carpets look nice but my heels sink in them. Wooden, marble, or tiled floors please.” Robin peeked at her feet, a little dismayed at the red marks around the tops. “Plus those things hurt. Just wearing them hurts. You don’t even have to walk. Why were heels even invented?”

 

“I beg for your forgiveness, on the part of my ancestors.” Chrom laughed, making his way to the other side of the couch, draping her legs over top of his thighs, thumb drawing gentle circles on the red marks of her feet.

 

“You’re good at everything.” Robin sank further down into the couch, letting out a tired groan of appreciation as the soreness started to go away a little. “And what was that about your ancestors?”

 

“I’d heard they made it fashionable for women to wear heels? Something like that.” He lifted her foot, pushing hard against the pressure points that made Robin bonelessly content.

 

“For women? Why the disclaimer.”

 

“Used to be a man’s thing. To wear heels I mean.”

 

“What?” Robin sat up straight, glaring at Chrom almost accusingly. “You wear heels next time then! You’re the man in this relationship.”

 

“I’m already taller than you love. I don’t want to be any taller.” He laughed good-naturedly, heart warming that Robin called this a relationship. Although he supposed it was, no matter how forced or whatever their circumstances may be.

 

“You can be the even taller one. I’ll be content to roam around here down on the earth in my sensible flats that don’t pinch my feet,” the blonde grumbled, crossing her arms but not pulling her feet away. He was just too good at giving foot massages. How was he so good at making her feel relaxed and comfortable anyway? First there was how he could brush her hair, now how he could make the pain go away from her feet.

 

“I’ll have a harder time doing this if I’m taller than you.” He pressed a particularly helpful pressure point, Robin’s back arching slightly.

 

“Doing what, giving me a foot massage?”

 

“No, that was just bad timing.” He leaned over, briefly letting go of her foot. “I mean this.” He kissed her, soft and sweet, nothing demanding. When he pulled away, a self-satisfied smile formed on his face, Robin staring at him all red and mouth agape and utterly embarrassed.

 

“Jackass,” she mumbled, covering her face with her hands, kicking her feet on his lap, telling him to get back to work.

 

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“It’s absolutely beautiful.” She was breathless, her eyes dancing, feet gliding as they made their way through the renovated rooms. They were warm and cozy and inviting, warm browns, lush greens, relaxing pastels. Anything she could ever want in a home in terms of ambiance. Nothing stiff and formal and uneasy, but a place she could imagine running barefoot after small toddlers escaping her grasp with loud and rambunctious laughter, the little ones screaming in her ears with utter joy when she caught them in her arms.

 

“What are you thinking of?” Chrom pulled her flush against him, hands settling on her hips.

 

“How quickly they finished this all. They said it’d be ready after your birthday, not before.” She let her hands rest on his chest, her eyes wandering around their bedroom.

 

“Birthday present they said.” He shrugged almost carelessly, turning his head around to admire the work.

 

There was a punchy coral accent wall, off to the side where the windows were. Robin insisted that it be put there, their room facing the morning sun slightly. The first time he’d seen it finished he was amazed at her foresight, the warm glow radiating around and making the room otherworldly in a relaxed, almost beachy sort of vibe. The rest of the walls were a much fainter peach, like the color of warm sand, textured in some sections for variety. The warm brown varnish of their cherry-mahogany bed seemed to come alive, their linens of deep purples, blues, and whites, oddly enough, brightening up the summery feel of their room.

 

“I really didn’t take you for a summer color scheme.”

 

“I’m not, I was going for a sunset, all colorful and romantic.” Robin pulled away as she gestured at the rest of the decor. “Isn’t it?” She sighed almost dreamily, leaning her head against Chrom’s shoulder.

 

He imagined the room dark, lit candles everywhere instead of the bright lights from the ceiling, the type they could control the brightness of by turning a dial. There was a table off to one side, like the one in his room, a small breakfast nook if they were too lazy to go downstairs or wanted to enjoy light snacks but stay in bed. Or they could talk lowly, hands resting on the table, fingers curled together, while they capped off the night with some liquor or wine, a gentle, heady buzz before they stumbled off to bed. Maybe more than a little tipsy but certainly not drunk.

 

Maybe this was where they’d have sex for the first time, gauche as that sounded, but it was a strangely wonderful passing thought. That they’d explore each other for the first time in the place they would call home, where the rooms across from theirs would eventually be filled with children, two he’d like to think. Outside there’d be the joyful pitter patter of tiny feet, somehow soft and loud at the same time, banging at their door with glee, Robin grumbling as she buried herself further into the sheets and pillows, even if the offenders were their own children. He’d laugh, press a kiss on her bare shoulder before pulling over a shirt and opening the doors, letting the rascals in and jump on their bed and shake their mother awake. She’d open her eyes, wide but unruffled, taking them into her arms and burying them all under the soft, still warm linen and they’d all go back to sleep.

 

“Hey.”

 

Chrom blinked, tilting his head to look down at Robin.

 

“What are you thinking about?”

 

“Children,” he said truthfully, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and giving her arm a light squeeze.

 

“Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say.

 

They hadn’t tried to be intimate since their wedding night, and they obviously needed to be for her to get pregnant. That’s just how biology worked but she didn’t want to turn herself over to him just because everyone else expected her to be round with child before the year was over. No, she wanted time to fall in love with him, and she was each day that passed, and then time for it to just be the two of them. This wasn’t the middle ages, when kings and queens died from sickness or hidden blades or carefully crafted poisons, where children were seen as no more than pawns if they weren’t heir to the throne.

 

“When you’re ready my love. We don’t need to rush into anything,” he murmured into her hair, pressing soft kisses by her temple.

 

“Okay.” She turned around and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. “Thank you.”

 

He ran his fingers through her hair, rubbing the ends between the soft but calloused pads of his thumb and index finger, repeating the process when he let the lock of hair go. He’d wait, for her. He was amazed that he’d do anything for her, to protect her from all the judging and harsh gazes that were directed her way when her back was turned, the whispers that followed when they talked about her heritage. He knew that she was more than what her outward appearance dictated, half Ylissean, half Plegian. She’d been selected to be his wife for more than her looks and genetic potential, the council practicing some rudimentary, crude form of eugenics. But since meeting her, seeing her sad but determined eyes he wanted nothing more than to curl his arms around her and shield her from all the hurt and pain at the thought and possibility of being used for more than this.

 

“I love you,” he whispered, bringing his arms up and around her. He didn’t expect a reply but got one just the same, wordless but full of meaning: a slow nod against him and a muffled, almost pleased hum that shot straight through his heart.

 

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Robin smiled graciously, nodding her head and trying to keep her nails from digging too deeply into the fleshy part of her palm as she greeted the last few guests. She was nervous, absolutely positively nervous. Her mother’s family wasn’t big, she played in a few recitals growing up, but that had been a lifetime ago. After dinner, she was about to perform for some of Chrom’s closest family and friends and all eyes would be on her. She had an intense desire to please, to make sure everyone enjoyed the evening’s entertainment. It wouldn’t be just her, no there would be casual singing and dancing afterwards, but she’d open up the small program.

 

“Nervous?”

 

Robin turned to face her mother, tonight the first time in a long while they were together. There were just too many things to do since the honeymoon, but she always made sure to call.

 

“A little bit,” she smiled weakly, taking the hand her mother offered.

 

“A little?” Cassandra raised a brow, squeezing Robin reassuringly.

 

“A lot,” she admitted quietly, leading her mother to their table. It was an intimate affair, to be sure, but large enough to need quite a few tables, a seating plan, and a wide open dance floor beside the piano she was going to play. “I haven’t done this in so long.”

 

“It’s like riding a bike. Maybe you’re a little rusty but you never forget. You’ve been practicing right?”

 

“Not as much as I’d like but I have.”

 

“You never practice as much as you like,” Cassandra said with a laugh, letting go of Robin’s hand once they made it to their table. Gaius was already rocking in his seat, antsy for service to start, Olivia placing a hand on top of his to try and at least calm him down.

 

“You’ll do well Robin, I just know it. If someone like me can perform on a stage, you most certainly can play the piano well to all these people,” Olivia said reassuringly. Robin gazed at the dancer thankfully, her words starting to calm her heart that was threatening to beat right out of her chest. “Just take deep breaths and focus on a single point in front of you. Pretend no one’s around you, just you and the piano. Eventually it’ll all coalesce and it’ll all come back to you. I used to love dancing along to your piano. I still would if you’d play sometime, even if it’s just the two of us.”

 

“That’s right Bubbles. Just live and let go, that’s all you can do at this point!” The young noble grinned toothily, peering over the top of the floral centerpiece in an attempt to spy any of the staff bringing in their appetizers. Instead, he spied Chrom finally making an appearance, completing their small table. “Ah the man of the hour. Are they serving food yet?”

 

“In a few minutes.” The prince pulled a seat, reaching for his wife’s hand under the table. “You’re unusually hungry.”

 

“Not for the food, although I suspect that it’s going to be good anyway. For dessert,” he corrected, leaning back and calming down once he knew dinner was about to start.

 

“I don’t know how you handle him Olivia, I really don’t.” Chrom laughed good-naturedly, the dancer blushing. “It’s good to see you again, Cassandra. I trust you’ve been doing well?”

 

“Enough I suppose. The cafe’s been getting busier now since I’m the mother of the new princess, but nothing hiring a few more warm bodies won’t fix.” The older blonde looked wistfully at her daughter, reaching forward tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

 

“It’s terrible really. I can’t get our usual table anymore because it’s always so full,” Gaius groaned, making a dramatic show of sliding down his seat, the name card on his plate reading his name and his future rank should his father pass or ever retire: Earl of Dolos. “Have you been? The desserts there are to die for.”

 

“All desserts are to die for according to you, but I appreciate your praise just the same,” Cassandra laughed, her eyes twinkling.

 

“No but I should. Is there a time that’s convenient for you?”

 

Robin leaned back in her seat, content, almost blocking out the sound of servers shuffling and loved ones talking amongst themselves. She liked this, small, easy dinners and light conversation. She wondered if it would still be like this, if Chrom weren’t a prince and had all eyes on him. If they’d just met out in a field somewhere, knowing her probably asleep under a tree with a book in her hand, and Chrom saying something like it wasn’t the best place to sleep in, and then their story could’ve started from there. Instead of… this, the pair of them pushed into their roles in society and acting a certain way. Still, it made her feel warm and fuzzy to see just how easily, and fondly, he was talking to her mother and her best friend.

 

Dinner finished quickly and as expected, Gaius had wolfed down desserts and eyed Olivia’s half finished plate that she pushed away. Robin shook her head, amused that the earl's son had even bothered to try to sneakily switch plates with his girlfriend. Olivia knew anyway, that’s why she left what she did on her plate, and even though she could afford to eat more because of increased practice and during the dance season, she had excellent control over her eating habits. She reached out for her mother’s hand, giving it a slight squeeze before standing up.

 

“Where are you going?” Chrom lifted his gaze, taking a sip of the sauterne that accompanied the vanilla bean panna cotta with macerated strawberries he had selected.

 

“Piano. Before anyone makes an announcement and I die of embarrassment before I can even play one note,” she said lightly, a soft smile on her face. She was thankful they kept Lissa in the dark, her younger sister-in-law terrible at keeping secrets like these, fun to be around but a terrible prankster (Chrom emphatically warning her that her guard be up at all times lest she be on the receiving end of Lissa’s mischief).

 

Robin moved quietly to the piano, feet gliding and skirts ruffling against the marble flooring of the ballroom. Sofia caught her eye but with a small shake of her head and an almost secret smile, the princess said she didn’t want any introduction. The queen returned the same look, knowing and encouraging. The friendly chatter continued as she sat down on the piano bench, running her fingers along the ivory white keys without pressing down on them. Some curious gazes fell on her, almost like they were amused she had approached the piano at all. She took a deep breath, her shoulder shaking slightly, the sequined fabric beneath the blue rustling softly. Just then, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder, Robin looking up with glassy eyes.

 

“It’s okay. I’m here.” Chrom gave her shoulder a light squeeze. She scooted over just slightly, a silent invitation for him to take a seat beside her. He did, leaning his weight on one hand as he watched her fingers splay over the keys, lively music resonating from the grand piano, no sheet music in front of her. She played these pieces often enough, some of her favorites that she took to heart because of the emotions she felt, the expressions people made.

 

She started with Chopin’s Fantasie-Impromptu, a dazzling display of latent talent. The notes were soft and unsure at first, the guests taking a look around and wondering what they were hearing. Hushed whispers started when they noticed Robin’s hands moving gracefully across the keys, controlled even with the speed needed to play the piece. Her eyes were closed, memory and emotions taking over as Chrom and everyone else watched in fascination, the room silent with appreciation. She shifted to Mozart’s lively Rondo Alla Turca, feet tapping gently as the guests followed along, then to the dainty and sprightly tune of Vivaldi’s Spring, movement 1: Allegro. She brought everyone down with an elegant rendition of Debussy’s Clair de Lune, eyes of all the guests closed with smiling faces, their expressions dreamlike. Applause filled the room when Robin finished, her fingers still resting on the keys, unshed tears in her eyes when she opened them.

 

“What’s wrong?” Chrom asked, turning her head to face him as he thumbed away whatever threatened to spill.

 

“Nothing, I just haven’t played in such a long time,” she whispered, her voice loud in his ears even with the applause. “How… what are your parents doing?” she asked, uncertainty in her voice.

 

“Clapping. Smiling,” he reassured, restraining himself from even pecking her on the cheek. Standing, Chrom turned to look at the string quartet hired for the evening before offering a hand out to his wife. “May I have the honor of dancing with you?” His blue eyes sparkled warmly.

 

Wordlessly, she took his hand and let him lead her to the open floor, his movements guiding her to the start of a slow waltz. The blue and silver of her dress matched perfectly with his suit, his hand warm against her bare upper back, their other hands curled together almost affectionately. They glided with the greatest of ease, the dress Cherche had designed flowing beautifully as the prince guided her into a relaxed twirl. Other couples started to fill the ballroom, his own parents moving close to them, trading partners.

 

“You never thought to become a concert pianist?” Sirius asked, Robin surprised that he initiated the conversation.

 

“I like playing the piano, but I don’t think I’d be able to for hundreds of people. This small group already terrified me,” she replied with a quiet laugh, honest.

 

“But I hope you’ll play for us on occasion. You are talented, my dear girl, and I would hate for it to go to waste.” The king smiled, Robin’s heart almost skipping a beat because of how similar it was to his son’s.

 

“Of course. I’d be happy to.” After a few more steps, Robin found herself face to face with her husband, his frame strong and steady to carry her through the dance.

 

“It seems there’s much more to celebrate tonight than just my birthday in a few days,” Chrom commented softly, but his eyes were bright and cheerful.

 

“What else, pray tell, are we celebrating?”

 

“You,” he said simply, leaning forward slightly to kiss the corner of her mouth. “Your playing, your dancing, your laughing and smiling.” He relished the embarrassed blush on her cheeks, how her lids fell down halfway and she peered at him through her thick lashes as they continued to float across the dancefloor.

 

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Robin sank down in the tub, peppermint bubble bath frothing around her as she let all the tension in her body melt away. Despite her nervousness, it was fun playing the piano again, especially the Chopin piece, challenging and a piece she always immersed herself fully in. She smiled, small and endlessly pleased with herself, as she reached out for the dessert wine off to the side, crisp and light and fruity.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Chrom pulled her close, kissing her temple before smoothing away the loose hair that she didn’t have pinned up at the moment.

 

Strangely enough, she didn’t mind this skin to skin contact, savored it almost, like during their wedding night. This and being tangled up under the sheets while they slept was the most intimate they had been so far, her husband far more patient than she thought most men to be in his position.

 

“It was nice seeing my mother, watching her smile with pride after we finally sat down after all the dancing. She loves the piano too you know, but we could never afford the actual instrument so we settled for a keyboard.” The blonde leaned against her husband’s chest, eyes closing, this tub big enough for the two of them unlike the one in Ylisstol Castle.

 

“Did she dream of being a concert pianist?” He raised an arm, toying with the ends of her hair that were sticking out from the messy bun on top of her head.

 

“No, she’s always wanted to run a cafe. She loves to cook and bake, entertain friends with coffee and tea, that sort of thing.” She took another sip of her wine before setting it down again beside Chrom’s almost empty one, the buzz of the alcohol warming her even more.

 

“Well then, we really should make the time to visit her. I think next week should be fairly free.” He smiled softly, still playing with the ends of her hair.

 

“Really? You’d do that?” Robin sat up, lifting herself out of the water, bubbles and foam sticking to her skin. She wanted to visit her mother now that things were starting to settle.

 

“I’ve been meaning to. I’m sorry for not having made the time earlier.”

 

A burst of affection overcame Robin as she contemplated her husband’s boyish, apologetic smile. Everything had been such a whirlwind that she didn’t have time to think about visiting her mother and now that she did, and Chrom was taking the initiative, she couldn’t help but feel anything other than love for this man who wanted to make things as easy for her as he could. A rush of boldness overcame her as she swept her hair back and bit her lower lip.

 

“Robin?” He tilted his head backwards slightly.

 

Wordlessly, she shifted around and over Chrom until she straddled his lap, unmindful of his widening eyes and the interested twitch of him as she settled on top of him. Smiling softly, she cupped his face and leaned forward, angling their faces until their lips met in a sweet kiss. The sensation of her bare breasts pressing against his chest was stirring, an idle thought of how he was starting to harden playing in the back of his mind as he held her down by the hips, thumbs drawing smooth circles on top of the jutting bones of her pelvis underneath the sudsy, minty water.

 

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Robin wondered if he was a naturally deep sleeper, easy enough to slip out from under his arm unnoticed. Still, she was thankful for it, and that she often woke up earlier than he did, making her surprise much easier to execute. Since the party, they’d gotten much closer, not just physically but emotionally as well, Chrom following her around like a big, scruffy, and endlessly loyal dog. She was giddy all the time, like she was a teenager whose crush admitted he liked her too. Leaning over, she brushed his bangs aside and smoothed the slight frown in between his brows before pressing a soft kiss on his hairline. Quietly, she made her way down to the kitchen, thankful that the head pastry chef was more than happy to start work early.

 

“Thank you for helping me. I mean, I know my way around the kitchen but I don’t think I can manage to bake this much all on my own with not much time.” Robin glanced at the clock, noting it was just four in the morning. She’d sleep off the tiredness later, not that she felt any, far too excited with early memories of helping her mother bake and prep for her then small business that she ran out of their apartment.

 

“Not a problem at all Ma’am! I’m more than happy to help. Especially since you said this is a recipe you got from your own mother?” She smiled, a little nervous but excited all the same.

 

“She loves food and she always made the cake for my birthday. Just the two of us and my best friend and her parents.” The princess smiled fondly. “Come on, we don’t have much time to spare.”

 

“Yes Ma’am!” She rolled up her sleeves before handing Robin a spare set of chef’s whites, the pair of them working eagerly and noisily separating eggs, measuring out the dry ingredients, salivating at the most delectable smell of creaming butter and sugar together.

 

Chrom opened his eyes slowly, trying to blink the bleariness away. This was an odd but somehow familiar sensation, waking up to an empty bed, knowing fully well his wife had nowhere else to be. Dragging himself out of bed, he yawned as he dressed up, pulling over a white shirt and a pair of khakis. He all but stumbled his way to their smaller dining room, gaze softening when he saw Robin standing beside the table, fidgeting almost.

 

“There you are,” he murmured, pulling her into an embrace as he pressed his head against the crook of her shoulder. “I was wondering where you went.”

 

“Kitchen, preparing something,” she whispered back.

 

“Oh?” Chrom tilted his head, gaze still unfocused and hazy from sleep. He wasn’t the worst person in the mornings but it did take him a while to get things started.

 

“Happy birthday Chrom.” She pushed him off of her gently, stepping aside so he could see their breakfast table set up: crispy waffles, a selection of berries, a plate of bacon and a variety of hams and sausages, freshly baked bread and unsalted butter, but more importantly, two small cakes pushed towards his side of the plate. “I couldn’t decide which one to make,” Robin admitted quietly, hands clasped in front of her.

 

“So you made both?” Sleepiness finally gave way to alertness, his heart squeezing at the thoughtfulness of her gesture.

 

“The kitchen staff helped!” she defended.

 

“I never said it was a bad thing.” Chrom laughed, pulling her back flush against him, his wife all soft, sensual, and feminine against him, the scent of lemons, flowers, and something uniquely hers overpowering his senses as he buried his face into her hair. “Thank you love.” He showered the crown of her head with kisses, a shiver running down her spine.

 

“Happy birthday,” she whispered again, pulling away to cup his face with both her hands, an affectionate smile on her face.

 

A mischievous smile tugged on his lips, fire dancing in his eyes as he crouched just a hair.

 

“Chrom…” Robin started to pull away, alarms ringing in her head as she tried to distance herself.

 

“Too late!” He picked her up, arms gripping around her thighs as he spun her around, unbridled glee filling the space. Robin struggled, but not really, pushing the balls of her hands on his shoulders as she begged him to stop but laughing all the same. _‘I’m a lucky lucky man, to have met and married such a sweet and thoughtful woman like this.’_

 

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It was barely a week after his birthday when they found themselves seated in their living room, faced with a nervous Foreign Secretary. They were discussing matters about Plegia, how tensions were running high lately and that the government needed to talk to the prince and his wife.

 

“Prince Grima has been making trade negotiations… difficult to say the least.” The foreign secretary swallowed thickly, looking down at his hands.

 

“Prince Grima… as in my wife’s brother. Her half-brother?” Chrom asked, his tone wary.

 

“Yes Sir,” he admitted tiredly.

 

Unlike Ylisse, Plegia was still an absolute monarchy. Robin’s father, if he could even really be called that, had a fling with her mother just weeks before he had gotten married. It was a mistake and they both knew it, King Validar having a drunken affair with a young, all too impressionable Ylissean student who was in Plegia on an exchange program. No one really knew how the then Crown Prince Validar looked like, his appearance shrouded in secrecy. It was when her mother woke up to a note telling her to never speak of this travesty and a signed cheque to buy her silence that she realized she had just had a one night stand with the next in line to the Plegian throne.

 

When Cassandra found out she was pregnant, she went back to Plegia, stormed her way through to Validar and told him she was carrying his child, his daughter. Validar could care less but did say he would pay for the child’s needs, if only she wouldn’t cause any trouble for him and his future son. Cassandra assured him they wouldn’t. The only thing Plegian about her was her father’s blood but she’d be raised Ylissean through and through. Her mother never put his name down on her papers and no one questioned Cassandra, but somehow there were people who found out. Most everyone knew she had Plegian blood in her, only very few knew it was royal blood. With how petulant Grima was acting, it seemed the entire world was bound to find out too.

 

“We were hoping that you might be able to do something about the situation with your brother, Ma’am.”

 

“What do I have to do?” Robin asked through clenched teeth, gripping Chrom’s hand tightly. She had a bad feeling about this.

 

“We’ve sent word to Prince Grima that you’d like to visit, to apologize for not inviting him. He’s bound to take the throne soon. Your fa—.” The foreign secretary paused, catching himself on time. “King Validar’s health has taken the turn for the worse. You’re Prince Grima’s sister. He’ll listen to you more than he’ll listen to any of our ambassadors.”

 

“Did you even try to send anyone else? Or do anything else at all?”

 

“No,” the gray haired man admitted quietly. “We… we thought it best to use your royal highnesses to do the job.”

 

Robin nodded slowly before rising to her feet, feeling bile rise up in her throat. She managed to swallowed it down before she spoke. She wouldn’t have minded doing this, even if the government hadn’t exhausted all means. All they had to do was ask, not treat her like some pawn in a game of high stakes chess. She realized she was being petulant, but she’d save her hurt for the privacy of her quarters, while her face would be stone cold and empty.

 

“Then let me do just that.”

 

Chrom had never heard her voice so cold, never seen her eyes so blank and distant. She hated the idea of having to be in the same place as someone who didn’t even acknowledge her, although her brother said and acted differently. Her mother had always been forthright with who her father was and Grima had called her out of curiosity once. She spoke, out of politeness, but it felt alien to do so. Since then, he’d call, send cards, and invite her to Plegia. Never mind their father, he’d always say, he just wanted to spend time with her and have fun, as siblings did. She always declined, the timing never quite right she’d lie but really it was that she didn’t want to go and didn’t want to tell Grima that upfront. He’d always been nice… enough.

 

“Thank you for the opportunity to help my country,” she said coolly.

 

“Sir, Ma’am.” The foreign secretary bowed, taking that to be his cue to leave, deep down terrified with the knowledge he had just deeply hurt the prince and his wife, the latter especially. _‘But it’s for the good of the country. Surely they can swallow their pride at being used? To think that we’d have to play that card so soon.’_ Even he had to wince at the phrasing of his thoughts.

 

“Are you… are you alright?” Chrom asked worriedly, gaze lifting to look at his wife.

 

“No.” She turned on her heel and left, her husband helplessly staring in her wake.

 

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“Did you know?” she hissed, glaring at him with all the anger in the world.

 

“Know what?” He kept his voice and gaze as even as he could.

 

“About everything.” Robin forced her jaw to still, lest she grind her teeth.

 

“Your father and your brother? Yes,” he replied quietly, lacing his fingers together instead of clenching his fists and drawing blood. It was an open secret among them and the government, who she really was. “But to have them ever use that for political leverage? No. Never. I would never let them do that to you.” Chrom gazed at her imploringly, hoping against all odds she would see that he had nothing to do with this.

 

“Liar,” she spat, cold fury burning in her veins.

 

“Robin… love… believe me.” He stood up from their bed, reaching out to her but she took a step back.

 

“I would do anything for this country, you know I would. All they have to do is _ask_ ,” she cried out, tears starting to fall.

 

“I… I didn’t know they would do this,” he murmured, quickly closing the gap and pulling her into his arms before she could run away. Chrom held on tight, even with Robin squirming and trying to escape him. “Please, can’t we talk about this?”

 

“Talk to your fucking ministers and secretaries. Not me. Apparently I’m just a pawn who has no feelings or free will,” she snapped, drawing from a well of strength and adrenalin, shoving Chrom, the prince reeling backwards towards his bed.

 

“Tell me, what can I do to make it better? To make us better?” He was getting desperate, hating that look on Robin’s face. It read betrayal, anger, hurt, things he never wanted to see on her face ever again.

 

“Just…” She struggled, knees weakening. She could barely see past the tears, hot and painful. She couldn’t breathe properly, feeling like the walls were closing in on her and whatever strength she had left finally gave way, breaking down as she fell to the ground.

 

“Robin!” Chrom leapt forward and managed to catch her in his arms.

 

“I could have danced all night with you then you know,” she sobbed, clutching his shirt. “I just want to go back to when everything was alright and we could dance all night, like I’m not some pawn to be used at someone’s pleasure.”

 

“I’ll talk to them,” he murmured, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “I’ll tell them we won’t go unless they’ve exhausted all means.”

 

“No, we have to go. I don’t want to make this worse because of my petulance,” she sighed against him, settling down, eyes closing as she took in his warmth.

 

“I’ll make it right, tell them they can’t just use you like this.” Chrom buried his face in her hair.

 

“They can’t use us, or anyone else, like this,” she corrected, voice raw and tired.

 

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For once, Chrom was awake earlier than Robin. She had a fitful sleep, awake through most of the night and exhaustion finally giving way. He’d instructed the staff to let her sleep as long as she wished, and to let him know the minute she woke up if he wasn’t at home, to reassure her that he was just fixing things before coming back to her. With a mournful sigh, he brushed her hair away from her face, regarding the slow and steady rise of her chest. He resisted cupping her cheek and tracing her bottom lip, the flush on her face tempting him to shed his suit, change into his sleeping robes and just climb back in but no, he promised her.

 

The drive to the residence of the prime minister was quiet, the prince having requested a meeting with him and his cabinet. The staff there nervously welcomed him, the leaders of government regarding him with heartfelt deference but apparently none of that would be accorded to his wife, a half Plegian bastard child in their eyes whose genes and lineage suited their purposes just fine.

 

“Your Royal Highness. To what do we owe this honor?” The prime minister smiled, offering the prince the seat at the head of the table.

 

“Ladies, gentlemen, my wife and I had a rather disconcerting meeting yesterday with the foreign secretary.” His blue eyes darted to the man in question, the cabinet member unable to hold his gaze. “About being sent to Plegia to smooth things over with Prince Grima without so much as a consultation about what to do.”

 

“Ah but Sir we thought—”

  
“No you did not think. You used,” Chrom cut off, his anger thinly veiled. “And while my wife and I would have been willing to go, had you asked, it seems that you thought you could _command_ us where to go and what to do. Might I remind you that you serve as the head of _His Majesty’s Government_. You do not tell us what to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R O B I N ;;
> 
> I hate to do this to her but it’s going to be a recurring theme, finding her place and what she can do in service of her country as well as trying to learn how to love Chrom at the same time. SHE’S GETTING THERE but you know, /throws in a wrench
> 
> While I know the members of the royal family do a lot of diplomatic work for the government, I don’t think the prime minister or anyone in cabinet tells them they have to do this. There’s just so much respect and awe, I think, for the royal family that if government ever needed help in smoothing over any international difficulties, they request the assistance of the royal family not… tell them to do it.
> 
> Regarding Gaius’ father’s title, Dolos is the god of trickery, cunning deception, craftiness, guile, and treachery, so pretty thief-like qualities. I mean, I could’ve used Hermes, since he is the god of thieves in Greek mythology but I couldn’t think of a nice enough variation to use as a territorial designation so… Dolos it is!
> 
> As usual, your kudos and comments are my lifeblood <3


	5. Even Heroes have the Right to Bleed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept getting interrupted the past couple of weeks while working on this chapter because I keep getting physically exhausted so if I wasn’t passed out in my bed, I was off to PT for rehab for my ankle. That and I had to get my lazy ass moving and start working on things for my grad class this sem. With midterms approaching, updates may become slower, for both this and Ink and Moonshine, BUT rest assured that I’m working behind the scenes and writing. My update schedule will still be the same in that I’ll be alternating which story I’m uploading a new chapter, but I can’t promise I’ll be able to post as often as I used to. Writing academic papers is really draining orz And I’ll be out of the country for about a week and a half in mid-April so I can’t say for certain how much time I’ll be able to spend writing
> 
> Thank you for your understanding :D
> 
> And now hooboy here comes the plot!
> 
> The title is a line from Superman by Five for Fighting.

Cabinet swallowed thickly, unable to say anything in their defense. It was true that they didn’t think to ask permission, they didn’t even think they needed to. They drew up a plan and once all the details were finalized, sent the foreign minister to Thallo Palace to inform the young prince and his wife. Trade with Plegia was important. They weren’t strong allies unlike Regna Ferox, Valm, and Chon’sin but having both their economies tied together was reason enough to at least maintain tenuous peace. Validar was ruthless and unforgiving, his hatred of Ylisse cemented after their loss in the war, but he had recognized the need for some sort of peace. What good was being a king if he had no country to rule? It was said his son had similar qualities but was likely an easier person to deal and negotiate with once he came into power. Eventually.

 

“I know that it has been before my father was even born that Ylisse has become a constitutional monarchy, the royal family ceding all governmental powers to the people,” Chrom started, a dangerous smile on his face. Growing up he always thought it was a bright idea that people should choose from among themselves who they wanted as representatives in the body that governed the country. “But that doesn’t make us your puppets to use as you please. Yes, you choose our wives and our husbands for the prosperity of the royal family and of the country, but we do not submit to your will.”

 

Did they think that just because Robin wasn’t born into the royal family, she didn’t deserve the same deference?

 

“Rest assured the king will hear about this… incident.” The word rolled off his tongue with disdain.

 

“But Your Royal Highness!” The prime minister stood up, chair pushed backwards, hands clenching on the tabletop.

 

“Please, if you think this wouldn’t have reached the ears of my father, you’re much too naive.” Chrom wondered where this uncharacteristic coldness and edge to his attitude came from. But, after all, he was his father’s son and the king was fiercely loyal and protective of his family. “We would have had to inform him anyway of our travel to Plegia.”

 

“So you’re—”

 

“Because it’s for the good of the country.” Chrom’s eyes narrowed, staring down the prime minister who shrunk back into his seat in response. “I’m sure my father will be delighted to hear how you’ve treated a woman he’s welcomed into the family with open arms, how you’ve treated my  _ wife _ , like a tool.” His gaze swept past the entire room. “Now if you’ll excuse me, ladies, gentlemen. It seems I have an upcoming trip to Plegia I must prepare for.”

 

Anyone could hear a pin drop in the room after the prince had left, none of them able to say a word or even make a sound. Not that the king could do anything to outright penalize them but to have their monarch be visibly displeased with them? Much of Ylisse loved the royal family, especially with all their charitable efforts and diplomatic grace. They could only hope that the public was not going to be furnished with how the new princess and her husband were told, instead of requested, to go to Plegia. It was a PR nightmare and it could cost them their seats.

 

“Fuck!” the prime minister hissed to himself, too concerned about the chances that he may have to relinquish his position as prime minister. “That boy has a nasty bite.” He thought himself a good man, most of the time, but even good men made mistakes. He just happened to make one of the costliest ones for his political career, all because he thought he didn’t need to ask. The prince reiterated, and the entire family was the same way, that if they could do anything in service of Ylisse, all the government had to do was ask.

 

They could all only hope they’d get away with just a tongue lashing, and that this slight wouldn’t blow up in their faces.

 

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“You look concerned. You’re far too young to be that concerned. You’ll get wrinkles you know.” Sirius didn’t even bother looking up from his desk, his morning often busy as he signed policy papers and laws. Sofia sometimes helped, reading through current affairs, making little notes of her own and providing succinct statements about each. He adored his wife for it, making his work easier. He had to think about inviting Chrom a few times to read the dispatch boxes, now that his son was expected to take on more public roles now that his service in the military had ended. 

 

“Father.”

 

At his son’s voice, Sirius looked up. He was expecting his private secretary, not the prince.

 

“I didn’t expect to see you. To what do I owe the pleasure?” The king leaned back, giving the prince a once over. His son looked tense and stiff, unlike his usual impeccable posture, borne from daily practice as a child and strict military training. Like him and all the men in their family before them, Chrom studied in a military college, getting a degree and serving their country at the same time.

 

“Robin and I will be leaving for Plegia in a few days. For a visit.”

 

“Oh? I hadn’t heard anything about Validar granting permission. I didn’t think he would ever let an Ylissean ever step in his halls, already begrudging whenever he has to deal with anything about us.”

 

“He didn’t.”

 

Sirius raised a brow.

 

“Then why are you going? Off to start a war?”

 

“Trying to stop the possible beginnings of one actually.” Chrom didn’t miss a beat. “Apparently Prince Grima has been making things difficult.”

 

“How does your going there fix things?”

 

“Ask your government. Apparently they decided it best to just try and fix Grima’s temper tantrum by telling him we’d visit. Smooth things over as it were.” He didn’t hide the bitterness in his voice, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Chrom didn’t dare sit either, afraid that he’d lose all composure and just release all his emotions the minute he did.

 

“They what?” Sirius sat straight, golden eyes darkening.

 

“They just waltzed in our home, telling Robin to fix things without them even trying to, just because they think she’ll be more successful because she’s his half-sister.” He hated sounding so petulant, and he was because they all knew it deep down inside, knew of Grima’s affections for the half-sister he grew up without. Still, it was only common courtesy to have been asked. “So we’re going for a week long visit.”

 

“Why is he being difficult?” The king leaned back in his seat, fingers drumming against the wood tabletop.

 

“He wasn’t invited.” Chrom swallowed. “To the wedding.”

 

“No foreign dignitaries were invited.”

 

“I know. But he doesn’t think himself a foreign dignitary, not in this case anyway, and we all know he isn’t.”

 

“We would have had to invite Validar, but I don’t hear him throwing a fit about it,” Sirius reasoned, though futile. How was that going to look like, like they were playing favorites with Plegia even though they weren’t an ally? They had all agreed it was going to be an internal affair, only important enough nobles and members of parliament to be invited.

 

“I’m not saying we should have, but in hindsight maybe we could have at least sent an official message to Grima.” Chrom sighed, knowing they had played a part in this mess as well.

 

“One can only hope your visiting will help cool down whatever irritation the prince is still holding.” The king rubbed his temples tiredly. “Take this as an opportunity to build bridges with Plegia at least. I hear Validar’s health has taken a turn for the worst and he doesn’t have long, but he still holds an iron grip even as death comes for him.”

 

“We’ll do our best.”

 

“How’s Robin taking all this?”

 

“Upset, understandably, but I was able to calm her down. She was furious with me too, thinking I knew all about it.” Chrom’s eyes narrowed, a slight frown forming on his brow.

 

“But I take you work things out?”

 

The prince nodded.

 

“Go home to her and rest. I’m sure she’ll want you by her side after being all but told she’s merely a tool for the government to use.” There was a bitter, acrid aftertaste in the king’s mouth as he said those words. Tools.

 

He and his children were born into this, this life of privilege and esteem and in return, they served their people fully, to the best of their abilities. Robin never asked for this, neither had Sofia and Liam. Even so, parliament never had the gall to tell them what to do. They had always been respectful but it gnawed at the back of his mind that they had chosen Robin to marry his son because of her unique connection to Plegia. He would be lying to say he didn’t consider that… a perk and merely a passing thought, but he saw the way Chrom looked at Robin the first time they met. That had sealed the deal for him. Not her lineage and how she might be useful to the country.

 

“I’ve given the prime minister and his cabinet a piece of my mind. I hope you won’t berate me for it.” Chrom pushed himself off of the wall and walked over to his father.

 

“You did? Good.”

 

“I told them I’d tell you about it all.”

 

“As you should have. This involves my family. Of course I’ll intervene, regardless if I were king or not.”

 

Chrom’s heart swelled at his father’s words.

 

“Which I will. Later. Let them sit and stew and suffer.”

 

“Word will likely have spread. Not everyone has tight lips and with how the royal family is perceived now? I don’t know that they could keep their mouths shut about my visit this morning, and then there’s a matter of you as well.”

 

“They should have thought about it before treating my daughter-in-law that way, hmm?”

 

The prince swore he saw a glint in his father’s eyes and heard the sharp edge to his voice. Sirius was ruthless and cunning. Chrom shuddered to think how powerful an enemy he might be if he had more powers, more than just the mostly ceremonial, diplomatic, and advising roles he had.

 

With a sudden and rare burst of affection he held for his father, Chrom walked around the desk and bent down, kissing both of Sirius’ cheeks. “Thank you. Your support and how you’ve quickly taken Robin to be one of your own means a lot.”

 

“Of course. You’re my son and she’s my daughter-in-law.” He smiled, patting Chrom’s arm. “Now, do you know what kind of flowers your wife loves? I think I’d like to send some on behalf of the stupidity of my government.”

 

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Robin blinked owlishly, or as much as she could given her still swollen eyes and the pain that came with sobbing her heart out. She knew there was more than a good chance that the government would use her parentage to their advantage, but she always hoped that she was wrong. Or that she would ever be made to feel as though she were simply a tool. She felt her chest tighten, like her world was going to cave in once more as she turned her head wildly around the room. Her temple was pounding and her palms were sweating, bile rising in her throat. She wanted to throw up, suddenly afraid in the room that was supposed to bring warmth in their lives.

 

“Oh, you’re awake. They told me you hadn’t woken up since I left so I thought to bring up some food and tea for you.” Chrom walked over to the bed, carrying a breakfast tray filled with small sandwiches, light cakes, and a fresh pot of orange peel tea.

 

She felt her heart start to slow as she unclenched her fists, the sheets wrinkled from the pressure.

 

“Where… where did you go?” Her voice was dry and raspy, to be expected from the screaming she had done last night.

 

“I went out to fix things.” He reached out and smoothed her bangs to the side. “I said I would right?”

 

“Oh. Oh okay.” She picked up a sandwich and nibbled at it, resting her head against his shoulder, her eyes half-lidded. “You hungry?”

 

“Me? Hungry?” Chrom laughed reproachfully, wrapping an arm around his wife as he pressed a tender kiss against her temple. “Love, it’s well past lunch, you haven’t eaten anything, and you’re asking me if I’m hungry.”

 

“Mmm.” She could hear the mild tone of rebuke in his voice. “Yeah, and? Doesn’t stop me from asking if you’re hungry.” She popped in the rest of her sandwich into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully as she regarded the rest of the items on the breakfast tray.

 

“Eat. I’ve had enough. I visited Father after giving the prime minister and his cabinet a stern warnings.” He wrapped an arm around her waist loosely, leaning forward to pour some tea for them. “But I will take a drink.”

 

“You went to see your father?” There was a squeak in her voice.

 

“I did.” Chrom kissed her temple again. “He’s furious at how they treated you and he sends his apologies for that. You’re as much his daughter now as I am his son. There is nothing he won’t do to right any wrongs done to you, king or not.”

 

Robin flushed at his words, turning around just enough to embrace her husband.

 

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“Sir, Ma’am.”

 

Their head butler made his way to their table, or he seemed to be anyway, face covered by the vertical arrangement of flowers: purple calla lilies surrounded by pink carnations and white tulips, an apology from one royal to another.

 

“His Majesty sends his regards and most profound apologies to you both.” He set the vase down, the thick glass making a dull thud as it landed against the wood.

 

“Did they just arrive?” Robin stood up slightly, reaching out to brush her fingers against the petals. “In this vase?” It was a beautiful multifaceted crystal, lines crisscrossing to make an interlocked diamond pattern.

 

“Yes Ma’am, just a few moments after you both came down for dinner.” He coughed lightly, clearing his throat. “I shall check on it and have it brought out post haste.”

 

“Please.” The princess smiled, sitting back down as she leaned against the cushioned back of the chair.

 

“I see he spared no expense.” Chrom’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, leaning his cheek against his palm, his elbow digging into the tabletop. “He adores you, you know.”

 

“Does your father like sweets?” Robin swept her hair to fall over one shoulder.

 

“Nothing too sweet. He likes light cakes and pastries. Nothing too heavy or dense either. He’s your average meat and potatoes kind of guy and that’s already a heavy meal in itself. Why?”

 

“I think I’ll bake something in return. To thank him for the flowers.”

 

Chrom laughed, leaning back, hands wrapped around his stomach as he tried to still himself in vain.

 

“What’s so funny?” Her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed, cheeks flushing brightly.

 

“Nothing. It’s just that then he’ll send something over as thanks and I just know you’ll send something back. The cycle will never end!” He wiped a tear from his eye, all laughed out for now.

 

“Oh come on!” she cried out, burying her face in her hands. She’d do it anyway, mind whirling with ideas, especially since she remembered that the king favored brandy.

 

“He’ll like whatever you send him.” Chrom reached out and tugged on her forearm, smiling gently when he felt her arm move with his. He cupped the back of her hand, his thumb smoothing over the ball of her palm.

 

Robin peeked at him from between the fingers of the hand still on her face, her heart skipping a beat with his tender touch and gentle gaze. She was starting to fall in love with him. And she found that she didn’t just not mind it. She was glad for it.

 

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“Sit! Let me get everything ready.” Robin hummed, pleased, as she moved to the kitchen of the cafe, her husband and her mother seated at her favorite booth. The nice one, she said, where the sunlight hit it just right and the cool draft from the air conditioner was just right. Though the upholstery and the table itself had been changed since the cafe opened, the old fabric and wood top well worn from years of use, it was the spot Robin always spent time in: doing her homework, doodling silly things on rumpled, but dry, paper placemats, where the older customers would stop by and ruffle her hair as they said goodbye. Back when business was slower but was still somehow enough for them to get by.

 

“That’s the happiest I’ve seen her in days.” Chrom took a sip of water, thankful for the cool reprieve.

 

“I’ve heard chatter of the two of you going to Plegia. Is that what’s bothering her?” Cassandra leaned back, eyeing the swinging door of the kitchen Robin just went through.

 

“Chiefly that.”

 

Much as he would like to tell his mother-in-law what had started all this, he couldn’t. It wasn’t his place. The people had been thoroughly chastised and had faced the held back wrath and displeasure of their king. That was enough and that was all they could do.

 

“Did she never talk with Grima growing up?” He turned to face Cassandra, her gaze incredibly wistful.

 

“Oh he’s called, but their conversations were always short. She never knew what to say to him.” She smiled sadly. She never had any problems with the Plegian prince. “But he never minded. He always said it was enough to just hear her voice, no matter how short the conversation. He really loves her, even through all this mess.” Cassandra vaguely waved her hand over herself.

 

“Why?”

 

“Shared dislike for their father I guess?” The older blonde shrugged. “Not many people like Validar. I’m not surprised his own son doesn’t, to be quite honest.” She pursed her lips. “I hope me saying that doesn’t endanger your trip.”

 

“It doesn’t. There’s not much we like about each other anyway, but this peace is necessary. Even he has to admit that, with all his bitter, misplaced pride. He can’t afford a war he knows he’ll lose.”

 

Should he even be saying such a thing? Cassandra was wise and discreet, caring for her daughter above all else. If she’d thought Chrom would ever hurt Robin, he didn’t doubt she’d fight the pronouncement with everything she had, even willing to drop everything she ever built in a heartbeat and move to another country.

 

“Take care of her. She’ll put on a brave face but she’s… anxious to say the least. She’s never had to face him before.” She wasn’t talking about Grima.

 

“Food and drinks are here!” Robin chirped, pushing the swinging door open with her hip, a wide grin on her face.

 

This really was the happiest Chrom had seen her. He desperately hoped their trip to Plegia wasn’t going to sour her mood too badly.

 

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“Why is this godforsaken flight so early?” Robin yawned, as dignified as she could anyway. She was normally up earlier than Chrom, and generally a morning person anyway, but she had trouble sleeping the night before. And it wasn’t even dawn yet. She yawned again, rubbing her eyes with the ball of her palm, thankful she decided against wearing makeup for now. The flight was a few hours long. If she started doing her face an hour before landing, she’d have more than enough time for a simple look of mostly concealing her dark circles and the few, angry red spots that decided to show up. She always did break out when she was stressed.

 

“Because it’s a long one. And Prince Grima wants to have lunch with us as well,” Chrom gently reminded, reaching over to tuck some loose strands of hair behind her ear. She’d gotten used to his small, affectionate gestures, her responses now shy smiles and bright eyes instead of flushed cheeks and an embarrassed gaze. He missed those, but much preferred where they were now, like he was trying to court her and she was finally starting to return his affections.

 

“Stupid brother,” she muttered under her breath, closing her eyes and leaning into his palm briefly.

 

Frederick and Cordelia glanced at each other worriedly at the princess’ words, hoping there was no real strength behind them. It was a diplomatic trip in name, but the agenda was of a far more personal nature. Still, they thought to have their private secretaries accompany them. Leisure might be the primary reason for their visit but they were sure there were some business and political matters to be discussed along the way.

 

“Please accept our sincerest apologies, milord and milady, for not having properly screened the foreign secretary.” Frederick had been fraught with worry since that meeting, unable to find the time to properly apologize.

 

“It’s fine, I don’t think he would have told you anything about the meeting anyway.” Chrom waved it off.

 

“S’fine,” Robin mumbled, head lolling all around as she tried to fight off her sleepiness. Exhaustion was finally catching up. Her eyelids were too heavy.

 

“Go to sleep,” Chrom murmured when he felt her head land squarely on his shoulder. He smiled, amused, when she shook her head and tried to sit back up. Was this what it was going to be like, negotiating with children it was time for their nap when they didn’t want to? When it was so painfully obvious they didn’t have the strength or energy to stay awake. Probably.

 

“Not sleepy,” she mumbled back, frowning, but still leaning against his shoulder.

 

He prayed that their children wouldn’t be like this. But he also thought he wouldn’t mind listening to the soft, sleepy voice of a daughter or son trying so desperately to prove they weren’t at all tired as their eyelids closed.

 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He smiled fondly when Robin continued to grumble, weakly protesting as he helped her up to her feet and guided her to bed. Before disappearing into the partitioned section, Chrom turned around to face their anxious companions. “Rest. There’s not much we need to discuss is there?”

 

Cordelia shook her head. “None Sir.”

 

“Well then. If anything comes up, I’ll be in there reading.” He jerked his chin towards the door while Robin fell against him, eyes closing. Sighing, a soft smile on his face, he picked her up in his arms and pried the thankfully ajar door wider with his foot. “Keep this a secret would you? I’d like to come out of this flight without any bruises or scratches.” He turned his head around to face Frederick and Cordelia.

 

“Yes Sir.”

 

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.

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.

 

Robin blinked, staring up at the curved ceiling of the plane. Why was she on her back and when did she make her way to the bed? She distinctly remembered leaning against Chrom’s shoulder, seated across Frederick and Cordelia, eyes half closed. Not under the covers with a down pillow tucked under her head. She blinked again, the quiet hum of the engine white noise.

 

“Morning sleepy head.” Chrom peeked over the broadsheet he was reading. “Had a nice nap?”

 

“Nap?” Robin yawned, not bothering to even try and close her mouth, pushing herself upright with one hand and rubbing her eyes with the other. “How’d I get here?”

 

“I may have had something to do with that.” He lowered the newspaper, blinking rapidly when he finally took in how Robin looked. Chrom couldn’t help but laugh clutching his stomach as tears formed at the corner of his eyes.

 

“What?” Robin frowned, standing up to make her way to the bathroom.

 

“Your hair!” Chrom was starting to calm down, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. The blonde looked at the mirror, jaw dropping. 

 

It was the worst case of bed head she had ever seen.

 

“How much longer until we land?” She peeked out, eyes burning.

 

“Couple of hours.” He grinned, amused, legs crossed, foot tapping haphazardly on the floor. “Should be enough time to tame that nest on your head.”

 

Robin grumbled as she glared at him, moving around and trying to find a flat iron or a blow dryer to help subdue the mess her hair had decided to become. 

 

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“Robin!”

 

Cinnamon eyes widened at the sound of her name, the air in her lungs escaping when she felt a pair of arms squeeze tightly around her. She couldn’t move.

 

“I missed you so much! How was your flight? I can’t believe we’ve never had the pleasure of being in the same place together!”

 

“Can’t… breathe…” she wheezed out, tapping the back of the man who currently had her in a vise. “Grima…”

 

“Sorry sorry. I just got too excited.” The blond pulled back, a sheepish grin on his face, but kept his hands on her shoulders. “It’s so good to finally see you!”

 

Robin gave her half-brother a once over, as best she could anyway. They looked very similar: the same white blonde hair, the same birdlike bone structure, freckling on their skin. She shuddered to think they shared the same features as their father, their shared blood relation.

 

“We don’t look a thing like him, that vicious snake,” Grima hissed, reading her mind, as he tucked her hair back behind her ear.

 

His sister flinched at his tone.

 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, sincere, as he pulled her into an affectionate embrace. The Plegian prince was disappointed they had never met before, only the occasional phone call and even that it was stifling, their father having ears everywhere to listen in. Not that Grima ever wanted to talk about the insufferable man with his only, baby to be exact, sister. There were many more pleasant things to talk about, even if she never did do a lot of talking and their phone calls were always short.

 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the pair of you were twins.” Chrom’s tone was matter of fact, gaze falling on his wife and his (half?) brother-in-law.

 

“Thank you, Prince Chrom.” Grima’s eyes flashed, almost angrily.

 

“It’s not his fault. Forgive him, us. Please. It was an affair where all the guests were Ylisseans, no foreign dignitaries invited,” Robin whispered, hand moving and squeezing Grima’s reassuringly. The prince eyed her warily before sighing, pressing his forehead against her shoulder.

 

“You’re weak to her, aren’t you?” Grima asked, head tilting but still pressed against her shoulder.

 

“Aren’t you?” Chrom smiled, extending his hand towards the other prince.

 

The white haired man straightened himself out as he took it, the grip firm and sure. All while Robin flushed red.

 

“Good man,” Grima barked out, laughing. 

 

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.

.

 

“So. How are you adjusting?” Grima turned sideways to face Robin, their arms looped together, the pair of them walking in the lush greenhouse.

 

“Well enough I suppose.” Robin felt oddly comfortable with her half-brother. Perhaps it had been the fear that he was more like Validar than his mother, strangely enough a woman very similar to her own she’d heard, that made her nervous. She had been uneasy when Chrom said he’d leave the two of them alone, to catch up, realizing only then just how attached to his hip she’d been after the foreign secretary had visited their apartment. It wasn’t going to be the first time, maybe, that she’d be seen as a tool but she’d get over it, develop a thicker skin, command their respect because one day she’d be wife to the king and mother to the next in line to the throne.

 

“I never thought they’d pick you.”

 

“Really? Why not?” She tilted her head and looked up, the expression on Grima’s face serious.

 

“Well, with who your… our father is I suppose.” He shrugged, tugging her along to a small alcove. When he’d heard from Cassandra all those years ago that Robin loved flowers, lilies especially, he had a greenhouse made where the blooms could grow. All in the hopes that one day she’d come here and he’d get to show her. He didn’t have much of a green thumb, but for some reason, the few plants he took care of here flourished, flowers blooming regularly under his care.

 

“You’d think that’s precisely the reason why they chose me,” she said wryly, gaze sweeping over the flowers surrounding them.

 

“Is it?” Grima’s voice grew dark and tense.

 

“Probably, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was one of the main reasons.” She let go of his arm, crouching in front of the tiger lilies, the orange petals bright against the surrounding green. Prosperity and happiness. The fact that he’d led her here wasn’t lost on her.

 

“Are you happy?” 

 

“I am. Nursing the hurt from being used, but I’ll get over it.”

 

“You were what?” Grima spat out angry.

 

“Not by Chrom. Never by Chrom,” she quickly corrected, peering up at her brother from her position down low. “I heard someone was being rather difficult and made things… let’s say challenging at home. So the government decided the swiftest way to fix things was to send me and my husband along to smooth things over.”

 

Grima pressed his lips together into a thin line.

 

“Mind you, all you, they, needed to do was ask. I would’ve been glad to go in service of my country.” Robin stood up and smoothed the fabric of her sharply tailored slacks. Before a wince of hurt and guilt could rest on Grima’s face, she quickly cut him off. “To visit you as well. It seems I have been misguided in my beliefs that you were someone I couldn’t get along with. For that I am deeply sorry.”

 

Cinnamon eyes widened when she felt herself pulled into another embrace. It seems whatever her mind had authored about how he’d treat her wasn’t true. She knew he could be ruthless and cunning and unforgiving, having heard and read of his political machinations even at such a young age, but what could she expect out of a future leader of a nation still wrought with much difficulty? But it seemed he was capable of caring, of doing everything and anything necessary for what he deemed important to him.

 

“I’ll fix it. I’ll tell the ministers to go to the table and discuss the new trade agreement.”

 

“You better!” Robin pushed Grima by the shoulders. “Or this time you’ll have me to deal with, brother.”

 

Despite the threat in her words, the prince found it in him to smile. She called him brother.

 

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.

.

 

“You said this is a Plegian product?” Chrom’s eyes widened, staring at the wine in his glass.

 

“Yeah. Amazing isn’t it? Never thought you’d have wine from a desert country like mine?” The other prince grinned wolfishly, loosely holding onto the stem of his glass, the wine swirling around inside. “Our viticulturists have been doing research for quite some time now, to enable us to expand into the wine industry. We’ve been doing so for a few years, and the wines we’ve produced have gotten better and better each year, so I dare say we’re making some progress.”

 

“Indeed.” Robin sipped the white wine, a Chardonnay, she had been offered to go with her fish. Chrom was served a rather fruity and delectable Pinot Noir to go with his crown roast, Grima having the same. “What made you want to develop a wine industry here?”

 

“Oh to shore up our economy, for sure,” the white haired prince said rather airily, taking another sip of the Pinot Noir. “But mostly because I was bored.”

 

“Bored?” Chrom raised a brow, trying his damndest not to stare at Grima incredulously. 

 

“Mostly,” he repeated, setting down the glass this time. “It was a spur of the moment idea, I have to admit, but it was a good one. Of course it’s going to take a while for our wines to catch but they will, believe me.”

 

They didn’t doubt Grima, not with the determined glint in his eyes, the borderline arrogant tilt of his lips. With a wave of the Plegian prince’s hand, the servant waiting on them left, presumably to get dessert. It was a local delicacy, one that Grima assured them they’d love. It was nice like this, talking amiably over dinner, the chatter warm and familial.

 

“Oh? What’s the princeling from that backwater country doing here?”

 

A cold shiver ran down Robin’s spine, her cinnamon eyes trained at the empty space in front of her. It was  _ him _ , with his slick voice and condescending air. The hairs on the back of her neck stood, her hands crumpling the napkin atop her lap. She didn’t think she’d be able to avoid him completely, but a small part of her did. His health was worsening and the doctors didn’t think he had long left but he was stubborn and would cling to any thread of life he could.

 

“I don’t remember inviting him here, not that I ever would.”

 

Chrom’s jaw clenched, eyes darting from the prince to his wife. He could tell this was upsetting for Robin, who wouldn’t be when the man who was supposed to be her father didn’t even acknowledge her presence. It hurt to know he couldn’t do or say much, lest he start a diplomatic crisis. All he could do was explain himself.

 

“I came here with my wife—”

 

“You’re not alone? Perfect. Just what we need, more rats.” Validar sneered, dark eyes glossing over Chrom then resting on Robin, the blonde desperately trying not to flinch.

 

She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear him. No, she was stronger than that. She took in a deep breath to steady herself.

 

“We’re not rats and we don’t come from some backwater country, Your Majesty.” Robin’s eyes were fierce and her voice even and measured.

 

The king’s eyes widened marginally, surprised that Robin had a bite to her. That a woman would dare speak to him that way.

 

“You bitc—”

 

“What are you doing here?” Grima cut him off before Validar could do anything, standing up, his chair pushed back. “You dare talk to your daughter, my  _ sister _ , in that way?”

 

The older man regarded his son, expression slightly confused.

 

“I have a daughter?”

 

It took all of Grima’s self control not to lash out and push Validar against the wall, knocking what little air he had left in his lungs, to raise him up by the collar and have his feet dangle uselessly.

 

“You know what, never mind. You don’t deserve to have a daughter anyway. You don’t deserve to have anyone carry your blood at all you decrepit husk of a human being,” the Plegian prince snarled, hands balling into fists, nails digging painfully into his palm. Robin reached out and held his wrist, Grima slightly taken aback by the gesture but acquiescing and loosening his grip.

 

“And yet here you are, prince of the glorious country that is Plegia, and an ingrate. It’s just too bad there’s no one else I could replace you with, otherwise you wouldn’t even be  _ breathing _ anym—”

 

The king’s eyes rolled back when his thin, sickly frame hit the wall, coughing up blood. He stared back darkly at his son when he came to, the white haired prince breathing heavily as he met his father’s steely gaze.

 

“Get out,” he hissed, voice dripping with acid.

 

“You’re not king, boy. You have no right to order me around.” Validar coughed again, more dark blood, almost black in the low light, rising.

 

“Yet. I’m not king yet. We’re all just waiting for you to die. You cling to the false hope that Grima, the dragon god you named me for, will find it in him to heal you, give you life anew to strengthen your iron grip over us all, but you forget he destroys. Don’t you think he’d enjoy it more to watch you waste and wither away, give you a taste of hope only to rip it all away from you when you think you’re cured,” the prince spat, eyes glowering.

 

He seemed to almost grow larger and more intimidating as he continued his tirade.

 

“You’ll die soon old man. I can feel it in my bones. Take whatever comfort you have left and just  _ go _ . Stay in your chambers. No one has any need for you anymore. You forget you’ve signed over much of your duties to me. You’ve all but abdicated.” The smile on Grima’s face grew feral. “King is just a title at this point.”

 

“When?” Validar hissed, managing to straighten himself up. He would never hand over his power, not when he still had life yet in him.

 

“Don’t you remember Father? You personally signed and impressed your seal upon these documents this morning.” Grima drew an envelope from inside his coat and threw it at the king’s feet. “That’s just a copy. I have one of the signed versions tucked away safely, the rest you signed have been distributed to the ministers.”

 

“You ungrateful son of a bitch!”

 

“Get out.”

 

Validar turned on his heel, muttering a string of curses along the way. He knew he was dying but he could fake looking well, as much strain as that put on his body. Only death would be able to wrest his power from him but apparently his son had managed to do it, vague memories of signing papers and pressing his seal on hot wax coming back to him.  _ ‘How did that son of a bitch pull that off? It only proves he’s my son, infuriating as this turn of events might be.’ _

 

Robin collapsed in her seat, burying her face in her hands as she shook, tension bleeding away from her body.

 

“Well then. I do apologize that the mood has been spoiled but I think dessert should sufficiently raise our spirits.” Grima turned back to his guests, a genuine smile on his face. “Come now sister, sit up. He’s gone. You have nothing to fear. It’s just me and your husband left.”

 

The princess looked up, gaze wary. Her eyes flickered over to Chrom’s before facing Grima’s cinnamon ones.

 

If he was going to be the future king of Plegia, they were more than grateful that they were on his good side, that he held his sister in high esteem and would take great care in safeguarding the peace between their nations. Grima was intelligent and capable of profound care and love, it would seem, to those he gave great import, just as he was equally ruthless and cunning to those who displeased him.

 

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“Must you go?” Grima crossed his arms, the desert breeze particularly cold in the early morning, lips pressed into a thin line.

 

Their visit had gone without a hitch after the dinner incident the first night, highly productive both politically and personally, her brother not the terrifying person her mind made him up to be. They hadn’t even seen Validar since, word of whatever had been said quickly and easily swept under the rug. Someone must have heard, surely, but it wasn’t so far fetched an idea that they would keep quiet and avoid any scandal, obviously not for them but for the prince they’d much rather see king than the current one.

 

“We have duties to attend to back in Ylisse. We can’t stay here forever,” Robin explained, putting a hand on top of the Plegian prince’s head, the one time she was taller than them both as she stood on the steps leading up to the cabin. She tried not to wince at saying they had duties to attend to. Chrom did, but not her as far as she was aware. “But it was a lovely week. Thank you for accommodating us and bringing up ideas to make the ties stronger between our countries.”

 

“Couldn’t you extend for another day or two?” He knew he was pouting like a child but he couldn’t help it. This was the first time he had spent together with his sister and he didn’t want it to end, not when she was really the only family he considered. His mother had long passed away when he was young.

 

“You can always come visit us. Think of it an open invitation to Ylisse. Our apartment in Thallo Palace has been recently renovated and we have more than enough room for you, and much to show you in the palace grounds as well.” Chrom extended a hand, reaching out to his brother-in-law, Grima taking it with a firm grip before letting go. “Plus I’m sure my father would be more than willing to host, and if you feel like multitasking, meet with government and bring your team of viticulturists to meet with our own. I’d be willing to bet there’s much to talk about in terms of economic benefits and knowledge exchange between our two countries. I’m sure we can hammer out some sort of schedule.” The Ylissean prince looked over his shoulder to where Frederick and Cordelia were standing a way away.

 

“Of course Sir. We just need details from the side of Prince Grima if he has any preferred dates and length of stay so we can start to draft a proposal,” Frederick replied, clutching a leather envelope tightly against his chest. In this day and age of electronic scheduling and organizing, there was something to be said about writing the prince’s appointments down in a planner that could be brought around everywhere and easily referred to.

 

“I can handle the scheduling for more personal appointments as well, to spread out the work and have a point person in charge for the different occasions. It would be most appreciated, Your Royal Highness, if the same could be done on your side as well,” added Cordelia, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

 

“Are these your private secretaries?” Grima glanced over at the two just behind.

 

Robin nodded, smiling fondly. She’d known them for almost two months now and she had grown quite attached to them, how dedicated they were and just how easy it was to interact with them, much as she hated Frederick for his etiquette lessons.

 

“You must tell me where you found them. They’re so quick to notice the needs of their lieges.” The white haired prince gave them an appreciative glance. “Although I suppose youth has something to do with it. But very well, let me arrange my staff.” He turned to face Robin and crushed her in a hug. “Take care and have a safe flight. Let me know when you’ve arrived home okay?”

 

“You play the big brother role well, even though you were born only a couple of hours ahead of me.” Robin smiled, patting his back before pulling away.

 

“You really are like twins,” Chrom commented, an amused smile on his face.

 

“Take care of her or you’ll have me to deal with.”

 

“I have my own family to deal with if anything happens to her. They love her more than me!”

 

“As they should.” Grima smiled wolfishly, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

 

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“You okay?” They settled on the couch in their private cabin, Robin’s feet tucked under her as she leaned her head against Chrom, the quiet thrum of the engines in the background.

 

“Yeah, why?” She shifted, pressing her chin on his shoulder as she stared at him, eyes half lidded from sleepiness.

 

“Just happy to see the trip went well for you, forced as it may have been, excluding that incident with that man.” He pressed a soft kiss on the center of her forehead, her eyes fluttering closed at the gesture.

 

“Mm,” she mumbled softly, wrapping her arms around his waist as she settled back into the more comfortable position she had. “You were there, so there was nothing for me to worry about.”

 

Chrom smiled, reaching over and brushing the hair that had fallen across her face.

 

“Tired?”

 

“Little bit,” she yawned, snuggling closer for a few moments, his warmth comfortable and familiar, before peeling away and standing up. “Come on, let’s go.”

 

“To where? We don’t exactly have a lot of real estate to work with.”

 

“Come to bed with me?” Robin asked with a pretty blush on her cheeks, biting her lower lip to try and calm her nerves.

 

That only served to make Chrom’s heart race even more. Though they’d always shared a bed since their wedding, she had never once expressly asked him to go with her.

 

“Please? I’d… I’d like you to,” she whispered, running her fingers behind her ear, before extending her hand out to her husband. “Come to bed with me.”

 

Who could say no to that?

 

Chrom smiled, gaze softening as he took her hand.

 

“Of course. It would be my pleasure.”

 

Robin beamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this line from Superman fits Robin nicely (unfortunately) because just because she’s been okay with everything that’s been thrust upon her and has dealt with it rather admirably, it doesn’t mean she’ll always be able to and she has a breaking point. But, fortunately for her, the family she’s joined is extremely protective of their own, no matter how one comes to be a part of it.
> 
> protective!Sirius is great. I mean, I know he’s extremely limited in what he do to parliament but in the Ylisse I’ve set, the people love the royal family because they’re extremely active in charitable works, do their best to help maintain smooth diplomatic relations with other countries, and are often found spending their time and visiting various sectors of Ylisse to see what they can do to make things better! So to hear the people they voted for treat any member of the royal family, they won’t stand for it.
> 
> Grima basically looks like the standard m!Robin, while I always imagine my f!Robin to be a little taller than the standard one (Chrom still I feel a good head taller than her) and her hair is normally left untied or in a ponytail, if she doesn’t fix it in a different style for some occasion.
> 
> I imagined Grima’s personality to be kind of like Henry’s in that he’s pretty disarmingly cheerful but only to certain people, mostly Robin because he sees her as someone who, like him, is unfortunately stuck with the stain of being the child of Validar through no choice of theirs. To most others, he is decidedly ruthless, cunning, can even be unforgiving, and exacting with extremely high standards because if he can do it, everyone else should be. Instead of him being obsessed with destroying the world, because it doesn’t fit the plot I have going on in this fic. I always thought he’d be fiercely protective of anything and everything he liked, and care very little about everything else. While I don’t think he’d be the most benevolent ruler, I think he’s fiercely (maybe overly?) protective of the things and people he deems important, Plegia and its people part of that. Plus he’s (sort of) the stereotypical overprotective!older brother and doesn’t want to make Robin’s already difficult relationship with Plegia even worse sooo…. :v
> 
> Oh and I got the idea of a desert country growing grapes by googling it an apparently they’ve been trying to in Arizona and it’s an arid place so I figured the idea would work xD
> 
> As usual, your kudos and comments are my lifeblood <3


	6. L is for the Way You Look at Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life happened and even though I brought my laptop during the 10 or so days I was out of town, fully intending to write at least a little bit, I got sick orz so my apologies for the rather long time in between updates. That being said, I hope you enjoy this fic because I really did have fun writing this, but blaming jetlag and getting sick (other than my vacation and my insistence on finishing up a lit review before I even left the country) for the delay.
> 
> The title is a line from L-O-V-E by Nat King Cole

There was nothing like reading a good book in the warm afternoon sun, enjoying the last few days of spring before it was officially summer. She was finally settling into everything, almost two months since they married. She’s learned to love him since the whole Plegia debacle started, touched by his devotion. There was no more reason for her to feel apprehensive, to keep her guard up at all times. Robin had long since learned that her husband would do anything to make sure she’s happy and safe, that this wasn’t just some marriage of convenience for him and he wasn’t some lovestruck fool, that he didn’t just want this to work, he absolutely believed that it would. She smiled softly at her thoughts.

 

Chrom was undoubtedly a lovestruck fool.

 

But she didn’t mind that. Not that she would ever tell him because her husband had a penchant of showering her with the sweetest gestures and soft laughs and she didn’t want to be embarrassed, even in the privacy of their own home.

 

“More tea Ma’am?”

 

“No thank you.” Robin smiled, looking up at one of the stewards who passed by. “I’m fine, you don’t have to worry about me.”

 

He opened his mouth to protest.

 

“I’m fine. Go. I’m sure you have much better things to do than keep watch over me.”

 

“But Ma’am…”

 

“Go.”

 

Heat rose on his cheeks as he managed a clumsy bow, scurrying away. The younger ones were like that, shy as a mouse when she was hardly much older than them. She learned from Chrom that the younger staff were mostly children of the more senior ones, in training to one day take up the duties of their parents. Of course some positions were appointed ones, like their chefs and head steward (granted even he was someone Chrom knew as a child) but staff were mostly kept in-house.

 

The jobs weren’t terribly difficult, Chrom and his sisters being raised to do their own chores as within reason (Sofia’s doing likely), and their families were well taken care of in exchange for their loyalty and years of service. It was the least they could do, Sirius reasoned, the tradition having started during the war with Plegia, when parents couldn’t care for their own children because they had to deal with the sufferings of the rest of their people as best they could.

 

“There you are. I was looking for you inside.”

 

Robin looked up once more, a smile on her face as she patted the space beside her, marking the page with one hand before setting the book down on her lap.

 

“What are you reading?” Chrom kissed her temple before taking the proffered seat, leaning against Robin’s shoulder with a heavy sigh, eyelids falling shut.

 

“An adventure where the prince sweeps a princess off her feet.” There was a teasing, easy lilt in her voice.

 

“Oh?” Chrom stood up, tiredness gone at the barest hint of a challenge from his wife. “You mean like this?”

 

Without so much of a warning, his arms swooped down, one tucked against the back of her knees, the other curling protectively around her shoulders as he braced the blonde against him. Robin squeaked in protest, laughing as she kicked her feet as best she could but to no avail. Chrom had a firm, but not bruising, grip, laughing along with his wife as he spun her around. When he had his fun, he slumped down at the edge of the wicker couch, unsurprisingly not winded, keeping Robin curled up against him.

 

The princess was glad to be wearing a pair of soft linen pants, skirts and dresses a contraindication to that playful exhibition of his. To any playful exhibition of his really.

 

“Let me down!” Robin curled her hand against his chest, trying to push off but Chrom only tightened his grip his response, his hands having migrated to her waist, pads of one finger firmly pressed against her hip bone. “I’m too heavy!”

 

“You heavy? Please. You’re as light as a feather,” he admonished, pecking the tip of her nose as he grinned. He liked seeing her like this, happy and just this side of embarrassed, Robin hiding her face in her hands but peeking out at him just the same in between her fingers.

 

“You’re just saying that.”

 

“Did you see me get winded after spinning around in my arms?” His tone was sometimes pointed, like he had an issue with how she viewed herself. She certainly wasn’t stick thin, but that was unhealthy anyway. She looked good, just the right amount of long, lean muscles. Whatever excess she did indulge in, she more than burned by doing yoga and the dance classes she continued even after his birthday.

 

“...No.”

 

“You’re perfect, Robin. Let me have my moment,” he teased, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. The blonde’s eyes shut in response as she savored the moment, afterwards doing the only thing she could.

 

Craning her neck, she pressed a soft, almost shy, kiss on the corner of Chrom’s mouth, her eyes just a little bit glassy as she stared back at him, warm cinnamon brown meeting surprised, pleasantly so, cobalt blue.

  


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“Is this your mother’s recipe?” Chrom lifted a spoonful of the strawberry trifle they had for dessert, inspecting it before popping it into his mouth. It’s sweet and fluffy and tart and rich all at once, a certain giddiness spreading throughout as he chewed thoughtfully. He wasn’t particularly partial to trifles but this? This was heavenly.

 

“Oh I’ve made some variations.” Robin hummed, smiling as she took another bite. “You like it?”

 

The strawberries that Sofia had sent earlier in the morning were just perfect. And they’d just gotten a couple of bottles of strawberry liqueur, the princess opting to use that instead of sherry to make the trifle. So much so she had some sent over to her mother’s as well, a piece of paper with the variations she made tucked inside.

 

“Mm.” Chrom took another bite, the cocktail glass she made it in about halfway finished, rim artfully lined with some strawberry-infused sugar. “Is this what you spend time doing most days? Reading and toying around with recipes?”

 

Robin felt a stab of hurt but quickly washed it down with some water. She knew he didn’t mean anything by it, but here she was, still doing nothing. Well, she did do something, get sent to Plegia and smooth things over with her brother but that wasn’t going to be a regular occurrence. She wasn’t about to become ambassador to Plegia and live there, no matter how delighted Grima would be, but her place was here in Ylisstol at her husband’s side. But she wanted to do something worth her while. Liam did, as did Sofia before them, and she wondered just how long it took them to find their place. Or anyone who married into the royal family for that matter.

 

“Mea culpa. Forgive me… for sounding crude.”

 

Robin looked up. She didn’t even realize that her head had dipped low, hands fisting the linen of her pants.

 

“What?”

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, love.” Chrom sighed, suddenly losing his appetite. He really should have been more delicate in the way he phrased things. “I meant to ask if you felt ready to do something more with your time. It’s not that I don’t appreciate this, what you do, but I know you want to do more.”

 

Robin’s ears perked up, managing to swallow down the few tears that had formed in the corner of her eye. The prince leaned over, closing the short distance between them as he wiped away her tears with his thumb, Robin leaning into his palm slightly before he pulled away, resisting the urge to kiss everything away. That could never be the solution to pain and hurt. He promised they’d talk through any misunderstandings instead of sweeping them under the rug. That was not the kind of marriage he wanted to have, where he lorded his power over her, as many expected him to. No, Robin was his equal, and many times his better half despite how unsure she was of her place in his family.

 

“What was your major in college and what did you do after? I know you were working before we got married but you resigned once our engagement had been announced.”

 

“Literature and language. I worked for a publishing house as a reader my first year, then became a junior editor once a position became open. I like talking with writers and helping them along with their work.” The princess tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“Everything really,” Chrom replied, settling back down in his seat. “Do you like kids too?”

 

“I’ve had to handle my fair share of rambunctious kids when I was doing babysitting jobs sometimes. They can drain so much out of you but I like them well enough I guess.” Robin narrowed her eyes, wondering where this circuitous line of questioning was going. “What does my degree, my last job, and me liking kids have to do with what I can do now? Can I go back to work?”

 

“Yes… and no,” Chrom said slowly, trying to figure out his next words rather.

 

There was a pregnant pause that followed, Robin drumming her fingers apprehensively as she waited for her husband to speak.

 

“As you know, many members of the royal family are patrons of various charities, most of which are typically in line with their own advocacies and general interests. So, imagine my surprise when one of my meetings this afternoon was with representatives of this new charity that wanted to run literacy, reading, and writing programs for kids and teenagers from slums or difficult neighborhoods around the country.”

 

Robin lit up at his explanation and the prince chuckled. It seemed he managed to smooth things over well enough, but he had to learn to be more careful around sensitive topics for her. Much as their relationship was better, and more like in love newlyweds as of late, she was still adjusting. She had a job and much more freedom before she married into this life she never asked for. Now, she was relegated to mostly being within Thallo Palace because they hadn’t quite figured out what she could do. Until now.

 

“Which, as you probably figured out, isn’t particularly up my alley. I do enjoy a good book every now and then but… that’s more your thing than it is mine.” There was a shy smile on his face as he said this, his appetite starting to return when he saw Robin spoon another bit of trifle to her mouth. The very same one he just wanted to kiss and soothe away all her insecurities because she wasn’t just chosen to become the mother of his children (though he would be a liar to say he wasn’t thoroughly pleased by that thought), she was funny and smart and kind and sweet and thoughtful and all the things that made the world good.

 

“Mmm, and?”

 

“Turns out they didn’t know who to approach to set up a meeting with you. Our fault, things haven’t settled down yet but you think we would have anticipated needing to set up offices. Cordelia still shares hers with a few of her staff members when she should clearly have her own.” Chrom paused, amused at his wife trying to hold in her excitement. “So they came to my office to set up a meeting with you. Monday next week, to give them time to prepare.”

 

Without so much as a warning, Robin stood up and made her way to her husband, cupping his face as she smiled before slotting her lips against his, the kiss warm and tender. His eyes widen ever so slightly, pleasant surprise coloring his features, before he pulled his wife astride on his lap, pushing himself off against the legs of the table for space, one hand snaking around her waist, the other threading through her hair. In the back of his mind, there was a voice harping about how improper this was, for the Crown Prince and his wife to display their affection so easily, but damn propriety at this point. There was no one to see and why on earth would he not be pleased and respond to the rare initiative Robin mustered to kiss him passionately, and dare he hope lovingly, right then and there?

 

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Robin was exhausted, her chest heaving up and down rather quickly as she tried to take in as much oxygen as she could. From the corner of her eye, she could see the amused glint in Lon’qu’s eyes before her bodyguard-slash-driver turned his gaze away, cheeks pink in embarrassment at having been caught. She liked him well enough, Lon’qu putting up with her continued visits to Jean and Giulio, gamely accepting the teasing and affections of the pair while they were at the studio.

 

“That was fast.” Robin laughed, pushing herself up to seated, sweaty palms skidding slightly against the hardwood floor.

 

“It’s the Jive, bella. It’s _meant_ to be fast.” Giulio grinned, cheeky, chestnut hair still mostly, miraculously, slicked back, the few strands that fell now stuck against his skin. “But did you have fun?”

 

“Yeah. All those kicks and flicks?” Cinnamon eyes lit up. She wasn’t much of a dancer, she thought, definitely nothing like Giulio but she had fun and this sure as hell beat going to the gym and taking a cardio class, where everyone was likely to stare at her. Here, in the privacy of his dance studio, she could have a little bit more fun in the clothes she wore to work out in, loose enough and easy to move in, brightly colored sports bras peeking out just a bit underneath breezy and sweat wicking shirts and tanks. Just because she was a princess now and had to be more mindful of the clothes she wore when outside didn’t mean that she had to be ultra conservative in her gym attire. But she still was anyway, none of those working out while wearing just a sports bra and a pair of skimpy, barely there shorts. No, it was yoga pants, a supportive (though a pain to wear) sports bra, and a properly fitting tank or shirt.

 

“How was your trip to Plegia, if I can ask. Or whatever you can tell me. I do love a good story.” The dancer smiled again, handing her a cold bottle of water from the mini fridge in the corner nearby, before slumping down beside her and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. Never mind the sweat, he was too. He adored Robin, princess or not she was so fun to teach and be around. And the fact that she brought her own eye candy (for him) whenever she came over? That was always a plus. Even Jean enjoyed giving Lon’qu the occasional (more than really) once over. There was no harm in simply _enjoying_ what was there. Lon’qu just so happened to cross their field of vision many times.

 

“Good! Chrom and I kept being fed sumptuous meals so the fact that you’re tiring me out with all this dancing helps.” Robin laughed, pressing the cool plastic against her heated skin. “Seems I’ve misjudged my brother all these years, so I’m glad to have had the chance to set things right.”

 

“Brother…” Giulio said the word like he was tasting it, trying to figure out exactly what it was. “So it’s true? That your half-brother is…”

 

“Yes, the Crown Prince of Plegia.”

 

It wasn’t a secret, that she was half Plegian. She looked more like the people of the desert country than your average Ylissean anyway but there were always rumors about their marriage, why _her_. Most people thought that she was the child of some formerly high ranking Plegian noble who died before she was born, but others thought it was more than that, that her father wasn’t just _some_ Plegian. And he wasn’t, but no one ever spoke about it. In her childhood all she had to deal with was the strange looks and the jealousy and teasing, because no one ever thought to look further. When her engagement to the Crown Prince of Ylisse was announced, that was when the murmuring started, but no one would confirm her parentage, though she supposed with her warmer relationship with her brother, word would come out soon just who she was, perhaps even rumors of their marriage strengthening ties between the two countries as well.

 

“Oh! Well then.” Giulio wrapped an arm around Robin’s shoulder, pulling her in. “It’s good you’ve made up then.”

 

The princess smiled, leaning against the dancer.

 

“What’s this? Do I hear the cries for cold drinks and light snacks?” Jean pushed the swing door open with his hip, Lon’qu quickly moving to help the makeup artist with the too full tray he was balancing, contents good for four. The blond shot Lon’qu a grateful look, the dark haired man nodding once before he moved to the table in the corner of the room to set up. “My my, you both look absolutely exhausted.”

 

“Jive, caro. We were dancing the jive.” Green eyes twinkled brightly as Giulio pushed himself up to standing. Meanwhile, Jean offered a hand to help Robin up.

 

“Come, you must be famished after that.”

 

“You’re a darling, you know that Jean right?” Robin kissed the blond’s cheek before settling down in her seat.

 

“Of course I am. You’re all lucky to know me!” His chest puffed out with pride.

 

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“You know you don’t have to indulge Giulio and Jean as much as you do.” Robin’s lip quirked up into an amused smile, pressing her palm gently against her cheek, elbow propped up against the window as she gazed at Lon’qu through the rearview mirror.

 

They had a comfortable enough relationship, but she did wish that Lon’qu was just a little bit more talkative. It felt like she was talking to a wall.

 

“They’re nice. I don’t mind. And you’re relaxed around them so I don’t feel I have to be on my guard so much.” The dark haired man looked up at her through the rearview as well, briefly, but the princess caught it.

 

She smiled.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“For what Ma’am?”

 

“Oh for indulging me. I’m sure it must be a nightmare that I insist on a small group for security and, really, only you most of the time.” Robin paused, lips quirking upwards as she finally made her decision. “But please, it’s just Robin when we’re alone. We’re not that different, you and I.”

 

“It’s fine… Robin. I’m more than enough.” Lon’qu kept his eyes trained on the road. There was no sense of arrogance to his voice, just a matter of fact tone that suited Lon'qu well. “But if you’re really sorry, taking self-defense classes would not only make my job easier and ease my mind, it would make your husband feel better as well.”

 

He and Chrom had served in the military together, in the same unit until they started taking on more leadership roles and had their own teams to deal with. Still, there was a mutual respect gained from the hardship of training, the struggle on the field, the nights spent not knowing if they would make it back out alive. Royal as he was, the next in line to the throne even, Chrom insisted that he be treated no differently and for that Lon’qu was eternally grateful, the Crown Prince having saved his life on the last mission he had in active service. It was after Lon’qu had gotten around to that he decided to return to civilian life and somehow fate had found a way for him to pay back his friend, to join his employ. It was even more fortuitous that the prince’s wife needed a bodyguard and somehow wound up choosing him.

 

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She had butterflies in her stomach. It wasn’t as though she had never been in important meetings before, but she just always sat in. Her boss was kind enough to let her observe, take notes on how things were done, whenever her schedule allowed because one day, she was going to have to take charge of these things. She really didn’t think that time was going to be so soon after her promotion to junior editor, about three months before she found herself engaged to the Crown Prince of Ylisse, then a year after her engagement, she found herself married. This was really not how she imagined to see herself in the future, but, here she was, wife of Prince Chrom and about to take on her first patronage.

 

Possibly.

 

Maybe.

 

Hopefully.

 

“Are you alright Ma’am?”

 

“Just a little nervous.” Robin smiled slightly, trying to shake off the butterflies. “I don’t want to make a mistake that will reflect badly on Chrom and the king.”

 

“You won’t,” Cordelia reassured, shuffling the folders in her arms. “You’ve come well prepared Ma’am and you’ve studied up. I would think they’d be the ones nervous. Royal patronage doesn’t come easily and as a new foundation, it would mean the world to them to receive royal approval, from anyone really, but especially from the wife of the Crown Prince.”

 

Lon’qu watched their exchange, mouth pressed into a thin line. He really didn’t understand any of the things that royalty did but it was enough to mostly keep the peace and make diplomatic relations easier, that he understood. He’d seen firsthand how tirelessly Chrom worked to do good, to serve his country and his people, and that was enough. He’d heard about the things his older sister and her husband focused on, working on charities related to healthcare and children, his mother and her insistence that everyone be able to go on and not worry about having food on the table, how his younger sister having just finished college and her advocacies seemed to lie in making sure that kids could be kids growing up and to keep them out of trouble by having all sorts of extracurricular activities. Yes, he might not understand a thing they were doing, but that they used their stature and influence for good was more than enough for him.

 

“You’ll be fine Ma’am. The fact that you’re worrying and nervous means you care and that’s already a big first step.”

 

The two women looked up at Lon’qu, surprised he talked at all. He shrugged noncommittally before crossing over, taking his usual place in front of them as the elevator doors started to open.

 

The person who greeted them at the elevator was nervous, smiling but nervous, as she bowed respectfully and led them to the office that the organization was working out of. Their logo, Read Along, was emblazoned professionally against the wall opposite the glass doors, the space quaint but functional, large enough for them to operate out of in the meantime. Cordelia and her staff dug up everything they could about Read Along, summarizing the information into a few pages kept neat and tidy in the folders the redhead brought along.

 

It was a fairly new organization, run by some Ylisstol natives, the ones who were hands on and ran day to day operations just a couple years fresh out of college, having a few backers from not only the University of Ylisstol but some friends and family as well who believed in their cause. There was enough money to keep it running for now, to get something started, but they needed to raise more funds to make the impact that they wanted to.

 

“G-good afternoon Your Royal Highness. Thank you for making the time to see us.” The young man who spoke had a charming face, maybe a year or two apart from her in age, reddish brownish hair attractively messy. He looked like one of her classmates. In fact, maybe he was. She remembered listening to a report about literacy rates in one of her language classes presented by someone who looked like him and by the feeling growing in her gut, she took a chance.

 

“…Gareth Bridges right?” Robin stepped forward.

 

He blinked, surprised.

 

“Yes. How do you know my name?” He eyed the redhead with the folders behind the princess. “Research?”

 

“I remembered listening to a report back in college by someone who looked like you, so I just guessed.” Robin shrugged, smiling still.

 

“I’m surprised you remember, Ma’am.” He pulled a chair and offered it to the princess.

 

“It was a very impassioned report. I’m sure I’m not the only one who remembers.”

 

Gareth blushed lightly before excusing himself, saying he’d be back with the rest of the team and start the presentation momentarily.

 

It was just as Chrom said: they wanted to focus on literacy, reading, and writing programs for kids and teenagers in the slums of Ylisse, first in Ylisstol to get their bearings and then move on to other places around the country as soon as they could. They were bright eyed and idealistic, having finished their degrees in the same department, their common professors having spoken highly of the pair who were presenting before her now. Everything was detailed and professional, ambitious enough to want to take their dreams by the horns and make it a reality. They really thought this through and had plans for the next couple of years, starting small to test out the waters but knowing they needed much more than they could bring in themselves to

 

“Why me? Are you okay with me?”

 

Gareth blinked. So did the other young man beside him, Tristan his name was.

 

“I didn’t… what?” The sudden sharp gaze from both Cordelia and Lon’qu made him stiffen. “What do you mean by that, Ma’am?”

 

“Why me? Why not the Duke or Duchess of Chiron? Or my husband? Or really any of the other royals in the family?” Robin folded her hands on top of her lap.

 

“We um.” Tristan spoke up this time, swallowing a huge lump in his throat. “We um… we wanted to work directly with you Ma’am, but didn’t know how to reach out to you directly, so we thought to communicate through your husband’s office.”

 

Cordelia felt her cheeks warm slightly.

 

“My apologies. I hadn’t thought to set up more formal channels of communication this quickly, thinking that Her Royal Highness might need more time to settle down before she took on more official duties…” The redhead glanced apologetically at the blonde. “But it was smart and resourceful of you both to find a way.”

 

“My husband was impressed with your resourcefulness and drive,” she added, tucking her hair behind her ear.

 

Gareth and Tristan looked at each other, lips quirking up into smiles.

 

“But again, why me?”

 

“We read your undergraduate thesis on linguistic differences between Plegian and Ylissean, both countries having similar early histories and languages and I happened to have the same thesis adviser as you,” explained Tristan, growing more confident in talking with the princess. “She spoke very highly of you and your abilities, and we thought because of your degree, you might feel similarly as we do about literacy and education.”

 

“Miriel? She was one of the best teachers I’ve ever had.” Robin smiled fondly as she remembered her bespectacled professor. “I always did wonder how she ended up teaching the humanities when she was just as, if not more, interested in the natural sciences. I suppose she’s just about interested in any academic endeavor if you ask me.”

 

The blonde settled more comfortably in her seat as she indicated for Gareth and Tristan to continue. She had a good feeling about this, about them. Miriel and her mother always did say she had a good intuition on how to best use the information at hand to make good decisions, and her gut instinct always pointed in the right direction.

 

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“How was your meeting?” Chrom swirled the whisky in his low ball, a gift from one of the Eastern dignitaries he’d met today, instead of his usual bourbon night cap, his other hand combing through the loose waves of Robin’s hair, her head on his lap as she curled in towards him, the rest of her body stretched out on the comfortable chaise lounge in their room. She got him exhausted but fulfilled, happy that she was finally starting to feel useful.

 

“Good. Apparently they were underclassmen of mine, one of them was a classmate actually.” Robin looked up, eyes half lidded, with a smile on her face, pulling her sleeping robe closer around her, the draft from the air conditioner a bit strong where they were but the warmth of their bodies pleasant and easy. “They were really well prepared and their plans were all thought out. Of course there’s still many things that need to be done but there’s _promise_.”

 

Chrom smiled, draining the last of his whisky before setting the glass down.

 

“Oh? That sounds very good indeed.”

 

Robin shifted, pushing herself up on one palm, her other hand tucking her hair back.

 

“They’re going to start small, probably two programs at first, one for kids and one for teenagers and see how it goes. They’ve gotten some help from the professors at the university and have some literacy teachers on board and are working to get more volunteers properly trained for literacy teaching. They’ve got it all thought out for the next couple of years but they still need more help.” Her eyes were sparkling as she explained what went on earlier this afternoon.

 

“Which is why they approached you?” Chrom reached a hand out, cupping his wife’s cheek, inwardly happy when she leaned into his touch.

 

“Mmm. Apparently my thesis adviser was also the adviser of one of the heads, and we’ve had a lot of the same professors as well. I come well recommended to them it seems.” She laughed softly as she shifted again, sitting beside Chrom now, with hardly any space between them, her head resting comfortably against his shoulder.

 

“There seems to be a but after that,” Chrom gently chided, moving his wife to face him, her chin between his fingers as he kept her head up, his eyes focused on hers. “What seems to be the problem?”

 

“What…”

 

“Robin…” He knew. He could hear it in her voice, despite her excitement, the worry that was lingering there. “It’s fine, I’m sure whatever you decide will be the right one. I think you’ve already decided, by the way things sound.”

 

“What if… what if I want to do some hands on work at the beginning, to get a feel of things? What if it’s not the right one? What if I made a _mistake_?”

 

The prince pressed a gentle kiss on the center of her forehead.

 

“Mother invited us for afternoon tea tomorrow. How about I find time for you to talk with Father hm?”

 

Robin smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth in return.

 

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Robin smiled to herself, taking the pot of Earl Grey and pouring some out. It was a pleasant tea, warm and bright with the addition of thin slices of lemon and bergamot peel, perfect for afternoon snacks and family bonding. Speaking of family, cinnamon eyes flicked over to the garden in front of her.

 

Lissa was running around happily, chasing after Clair, the little girl screaming in delight. Emmeryn and Chrom were over by the fountain, watching the two girls with amused and gentle smiles on their faces. Sirius and Sofia were walking arm in arm by the flowers, admiring the spring-summer blooms, and Liam was seated right across, enjoying tea as well and light tomato and cucumber sandwiches. If this was what it was like with this family, then maybe having children with—

 

The princess blinked. This wasn’t the first time the idea of having children with Chrom came up, but it was the first time the idea didn’t just seem to be tolerable but instead made her feel warm and fuzzy instead. And it certainly wasn’t because of the tea.

 

“What are you smiling and flushed about hm?” Liam looked over the rim of his tea cup, eyes sparkling.

 

“Whatever do you mean?” Robin sipped her tea, savoring the citrusy notes.

 

“Ah deflection. Good you’ve learned that lesson early.” Liam raised his tea cup in acknowledgement before setting it down on his saucer then down on the tabletop. “But no really, what are you smiling and flushed about, just between us outsiders turned insiders.”

 

Robin considered her brother-in-law’s words. He and Sofia were the only ones who would understand her predicament, to varying degrees, but perhaps it was his point of view she needed more now. Not so much about children, that was another topic for another day, but about their choices and potential ramifications to the royal family. Sofia had her fair share of those, but perhaps not quite under the same sort of scrutiny as compared to today. If they weren’t careful, their every move could be published anywhere from a few minutes to a few days.

 

“How do you choose, or do anything at all?”

 

Liam’s playful expression quickly sobered when he saw the serious one on Robin’s face.

 

“Depends on what I have to choose. How I present myself to the public is easy, calm under pressure. What events to go to, well, there’s usually a good reason why I go.” He took another sip of his tea.

 

“Charities.”

 

“Ah. Those kinds of decisions. I’m a licensed pediatrician so that makes it easier for me I guess. I choose charities that are usually involved with children or anything medical, because I can understand based on my training.”

 

“A newly founded charity approached me, asking if I could be its patron. It looks promising and the heads actually studied in the same department as I did, our common professors have vouched for their work ethic and their passion.”

 

“Looks like everything is in order then. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ve done your due diligence.” Liam’s bright blue eyes warmed as he reached out to pat the back of Robin’s hand. “I’ve been where you are, trying to figure out my place here but it’s only been two months. You’ll get there in time. We’re all here for you.”

 

The princess smiled, weak but sincere, as she nodded.

 

“Listen. If you weren’t married to Chrom and in this position, do you already know what you’re going to do about this organization? Will you involve yourself in it? Do you have an answer for them already?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Then there you go.” Liam settled back into his seat as he turned to watch the rest of their family. “The fact that you’re worrying about this is a good thing.”

 

“What do you mean?” Robin turned to face the duke.

 

“It means this is important to you. If it weren’t, then you wouldn’t be as worked up about it as you are now.”

 

The blonde was about to reply when someone else caught her attention.

 

“Robin?”

 

She turned to find the king in front of her, hand outstretched to help her up from her seat, kind smile on his face.

 

“Chrom says you have something weighing heavily on your mind?”

 

The princess glanced over towards her husband, catching his knowing look briefly before he turned back to talk to his older sister and Sofia, the queen deciding to join them by the cool waters.

 

“I… I um…”

 

“Come along now. I’m sure it’s something we can easily figure out.” He took her hand, his hold easy and comforting.

 

From the corner of her eye, she could see Liam telling her to go, that talking with Sirius, more their father-in-law now than their king, was going to be fine.

 

She found herself briefly surprised when he adjusted her hold on him, linking their arms together, his other hand crossing over his torso to settle over her forearm, but she smiled. It seemed that Naga had decided to more than bless her with a warm family to join, never mind the circumstances of her marriage.

 

“Well, you see…”

 

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Chrom had the habit of stepping out of the bathroom with most of his skin already dry but his hair still a little wet, the droplets tracing rivulets along his cheek then down along his neck until they either stopped along his collar bones or the collar of his shirt. And despite the sour expression on Robin’s face at the few drops that fell on their bedroom’s hardwood floor, he still found it in him to smile.

 

“Why the face?” He pressed a few kisses along her temple before moving behind her, legs splayed out and wrapping one arm around her midsection to press her back flush against his chest.

 

“You didn’t dry off properly.” Robin found her eyes closing when he laughed, the sound coming from deep inside his chest, as he reached over, picking up the brush on her side table as he started to work through the tangles in her mostly dry, and already brushed through hair. There was something about having someone do this for you that felt nostalgic, and the way Chrom handled her hair felt almost reverent.

 

“Sorry love.” He laughed again, pulling her hair to the side as he kissed the juncture where her neck met her shoulder. “I’ll remember next time.” He didn’t miss the slight shiver when he pulled away.

 

“So you say,” Robin mumbled half-sleepily. Not that he ever remembered, but that hardly mattered. Truthfully, she was never particularly upset at him when he came out of the bath with his hair still slightly wet, far too distracted by the way her husband’s shirt and pants seemed to cling to just the right places. She did have to at least admit that she was, and had always been, attracted to her husband, the circumstances of their union notwithstanding. She’d have to be blind not to appreciate his handsome features.

 

“I take it this afternoon went well? You were all smiles when we finally left.” He leaned his chin on her shoulder, his arms wrapping loosely around her waist. “It looked like your conversations with both Liam and Father went well?”

 

“It did. Father looked up Read Along as well when he’d heard about them going through your office to reach me. He was impressed with what he found out and encouraged me to take them on.”

 

Chrom laughed lightly, amused. Frederick probably told his father’s private secretary about it, something the prince wouldn’t put past his old friend to do.

 

“I’m glad then. After this, I would assume more charities would be knocking at your door for your patronage, though I suggest not taking on too many. Get used to this first, love. I don’t want you tiring yourself out because there are other tasks you’ll need to get used to first.” He tilted his head slightly to kiss the soft spot under her ear. “Remember, we still have to prepare for the visit your brother is undoubtedly excited about, and there’s a dinner Father and Mother are hosting for important nobles and politicians in early July.”

 

Robin squirmed in his arms, turning around and kneeling when he finally let go of his hold on her, just long enough for her to adjust.

 

“Robin?” He gazed into the endless depths of her cinnamon eyes, trying to read her emotions. His eyes dropped to her mouth as he watched it move. His heart almost stopped when he realized what she said.

 

“Chrom, I need to tell you something.”

  


She looked up at him with her impossibly wide, soulful eyes, the ones he grew to love since the day they met. He watched her throat move, the lump he imagined there painful to swallow, so much so he almost wanted to gingerly smooth down his fingers along her cheek, to have her tuck her chin in towards her chest to help. He almost moved back out of reflex when she sat on her heels, toes extended for balance, as she wiggled in his arms, her face moving closer to his, a slight shiver running down his spine when her lashes brushed against his skin. Her arms lifted and started to curl around the base of his skull, fingers burying themselves in his hair, still a little wet from the bath water after all this time, like she was trying to find some measure of balance, finding purchase by tightening her embrace around him.

 

“I… I think I like you.”

 

Her voice was quiet but the words rang loudly in Chrom’s ears. Still, he stared at her, confused until he saw the pink dusting her cheeks, how she took her bottom lip in between her teeth, how she was breathless after her bold declaration. Or at least bold in her mind, her head starting to feel heavy and light all at the same time as she stared upwards into the endless blue depths of her husband’s eyes.

 

“W-what?” Chrom inwardly cursed himself at how dumb he just sounded.

 

“I… I um… I like you? I mean, romantically, I think. Wait, no, not I think. I like you.” Robin squeaked, sounding so unsure of herself. “I know this is sort of late, considering we’ve been married for two months now and have been engaged a year prior to that but it’s not like I had time to prepare myself you know? Maybe you did because you’ve always known but did I ever think I was going to be the wife of the Crown Prince? No. Oh gods, I’m rambling aren’t I? But I can’t help it. I’m nervous and I just… I just…”

 

Her head was spinning in circles, her throat suddenly too dry, her breathing short and shallow like she just couldn’t get enough air in her lungs no matter how hard she tried. She really didn’t think she was going to admit to her husband that romantic feelings were starting to bloom inside of her.

 

But then how could they not, despite the hiccups in their relationship post wedding. He was always earnest and was always finding ways to get her to return the feelings he so obviously held for her and it was so endearing, no matter how bitter she felt about being in an arranged marriage, though not at all his fault. Still, she realized it was only a matter of time that she’d fall in love with him because he was kind and caring and absolutely loving and devoted. There was no way the object of his affections wouldn’t fall in love with him, no matter who they were, and the princess counted herself lucky that it was her he showered all his affections over.

 

The entire time Robin was panicking at the consequences of her unplanned confession, the prince felt the world crashing down on him, his vision tunneling and focusing on the nervous face of his darling wife, the way her bangs just grazed her brow bone, the brightness of her eyes, the pink of her cheeks, the fullness of her lips, how her bottom lip was starting to get swollen from being bitten all this time, how he wanted to pry them from in between her teeth and replace them with his own.

 

And he did, Robin’s eyes widening in surprise briefly before she let herself go completely against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun that end <3 I had that planned for a while now. In fact, it was supposed to happen in the last chapter but didn’t feel quite right so here we are, Robin finally realizing. I think she’ll still be shy about it and awkward but we’ll see her slowly bloom into being more self-confident about her declaration sooner rather than later. Two months into marriage, about a year and two months since their engagement. A bit quick I think but then Chrom was in love with her pretty much from the beginning and the thing with the government got him a lot of brownie points with her xD Too quick for anyone else’s tastes? Let me know in the comments, please. I’d like to hear other people’s opinions about how I built (am still building) up their romance! There are also a few other serious topics I want to touch on as well so trudging along slowly on this path called having a plot.
> 
> Also, idk why but I wanted knightly names for the people over at Read Along (yes, I am so creative when it comes to those names xD But I find charities often have a fairly straightforward naming sense) so Gareth and Tristan, names you see in Arthurian lore. No real reason why I chose those names except I like the way they sound xD
> 
> Side note, whiskey and whisky are technically the same thing but spelling depends on where it comes from. So some places (like the US) use whiskey, others use whisky (like Scotland and Japan). Since Japan is an Eastern country, I spelt it as whisky! All this research from someone who doesn’t even like alcohol really lmao
> 
> As usual, your kudos and comments are my lifeblood <3


	7. I Just Can’t Believe That You Are Mine Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came out slightly later than I had planned, but at least not too far from the two weeks since I updated IaM. I had an exam on May 24 so about seven or so days leading up to that, I didn’t do any writing. In between my exhaustion passing and me getting sick (again, stupid allergies) I was able to do a bulk of my writing and have just finished the rest of this chapter! I would’ve finished faster if I didn’t spend an excessive amount of time looking for the perfect dresses for this chapter. But, that’s how I roll.
> 
> It’s also a thing now, I think, that the titles of these chapters are going to be from a song.
> 
> The title is a line from Forevermore by Side A
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!

Robin blinked her eyes slowly, once, twice, thrice. There was a comfortable weight across her waist, her husband’s arms undoubtedly. With a soft sigh, she managed to shimmy and maneuver herself up to seated without waking Chrom up. He was curled towards her, a slight frown forming on his face when he felt her move but he didn’t stir. Robin sighed softly, tucking her hair behind her ear with one hand, the other gently smoothing the wrinkles between his brows.

 

Frowning didn’t suit him, not at all. She much preferred his peaceful sleeping look, his boyish grin, his deep, warm laugh. His expressions of peace and warmth and love never failed to amaze her, that they could be directed to someone like her. She distantly wondered if that’s how he’d look at their children. It didn’t even surprise her she thought this way anymore, not after admitting her growing feelings for him, not after seeing the widest, most sincere smile on his face, not after noticing how every time he looked at her, there was a certain softness and ease about him.

 

Just before sunrise was her favorite time, lounging in bed as she watched sunlight start to slowly stream through the half-drawn curtains. It gave their room an ethereal glow, a comforting warmth before their day started, allowing her moments of quiet, contemplative thought as she ran her fingers through her husband’s hair. She always did find it unfair that his hair was naturally more cooperative than hers, the fact that hers fell all the way past her shoulder blades notwithstanding. She was often far too absorbed these days, during her peaceful early mornings, easing through the tangles in Chrom’s hair as she waited for him to wake up.

 

“Morning.”

 

Robin turned her gaze down towards her waist, Chrom pressed a soft a kiss there, a pleasant shiver running down her spine in response. His voice was still rough with sleep, brow furrowed as he blinked slowly to get used to the light. It was amazing how at peace she was, how perfect this all felt.

 

“Morning,” she whispered quietly, pausing her hand’s movements to cradle the base of his skull. She found it amusing that he had such difficulty getting up in the morning, amusing since he had been in the military until a few months before their wedding. “Rested?”

 

“Mmm.” He reached behind his head, cradling her hand as he brought the back of it to his lips. Chrom was awake now, despite being still, preferring to prolong this moment as much as he could. The minute they both left their bed, their morning would start.

 

“Would you like to have breakfast?” Robin dipped her head, her hair falling as it covered her face, the ends of it brushing against Chrom. She felt her heart skip a beat when he looked up at her with eyes that glimmered lowly, even if he hadn’t completely shaken off the sleepiness just yet.

 

“In a few minutes. I want to stay like this.” Chrom breathed out a satisfied sigh, much like a cat. Robin raised a delicately styled eyebrow. She never did take him to be a cat, more like a big puppy that followed her around and never quite left her alone.

 

“Okay.” She dipped her head down and kissed him lightly on his cheekbone before lifting her head back up, gazing at the windows, fingers running through his unusually downy hair once more.

 

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“Chrom?” Robin popped her head into his study. Hearing no reply, she went inside, faced with the broad back of her husband, a phone against his ear. It sounded like he was discussing some business. Pulling her hair off to one side, she made her way to the couch, smoothing her skirt down and pressing her knees together when she sat, angling her legs just slightly for a more comfortable position.

 

Despite the room being meant for work, Robin insisted that it feel homey with a graceful and polished ease about it. The décor was mostly in shades of blue and silver, cream walls suddenly much warmer because of the furnishings. There was a connecting door between her study, warmer and somehow more mysterious with plums, muted golds, the occasional punchy purple, and cream. Taking it all in, she was glad that she insisted. It suited him: regal but somehow warm and inviting even with the cooler color scheme.

 

“Oh. Robin.”

 

She looked up when she heard him call her name, feeling warm and fuzzy inside when she saw his smile.

 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He sounded formal as he put down the phone, but his eyes never left hers, but there was a teasing quality to his voice.

 

Chrom closed the distance between them easily, stretching out his hand to help her up. It was an unusually free day, not being cooped up in their cars, not being shuffled around from one event to another. They got to work in the quiet of their own home, relaxing and taking the few calls they needed to for the day.

 

“I got a call.”

 

Robin placed her hand on top of his, laughing when he pulled her flush against him. They started to dance in the relative silence of his study, only the sharp clacking of their heels, mostly hers, as accompaniment, Chrom a wonderful lead despite his adamant denial of that he was anything of the sort.

 

“From?” Their movements slowed, their steps small and deliberate.

 

“Gaius.” She relaxed in his hold, pressing the side of her head against his chest.

 

“You’re being rather coy, love,” Chrom murmured, his hands meeting at the small of her back, fingers interlacing as he pushed her even closer against him.

 

“Mmm.”

 

He could feel her smile against him. She was doing it on purpose.

 

“He wants us to go over for dinner tomorrow.” Robin looked up, head tilted backwards, chin replacing her cheek on his chest. “He says he has something important to tell us and that he didn’t want to do it over the phone.”

 

“I can only imagine he has something up his sleeve.” Chrom frowned, but never once stopped their slow movement.

 

“You’re thinking too badly of him.” Robin laughed, one hand reaching up to smooth the wrinkles on his forehead. “Come on, don’t frown. It doesn’t suit you.”

 

“Oh? And what does, dear wife?”

 

She could see the mischievous gleam in his eyes, like he was going to do something and she was going to hate him for it.

 

“A smile,” she mumbled, biting her lower lip as she looked away.

 

And just like that her suspicions came true, Chrom picking her up like she weighed next to nothing, her tea length skirt riding up along her calves as she shrieked, laughing.

 

“Put me down!” Her head fell backwards when Chrom spun them around, barely catching the cheeky grin on his face as her eyes clamped shut, tears forming at the corners. “I’m serious, Gaius wants us to go over for dinner tomorrow.”

 

“Fine fine.” He stopped moving but still kept Robin in his arms, not likely to let her down. “I’ll have it arranged.”

 

“I already took the liberty of doing just that.” Robin leaned against him, a little dizzy but immensely happy. “I already checked with Frederick what your schedule was going to be and you had dinner free.”

 

This was the kind of thing she hadn’t experienced, the early phases of dating. The one where they were both like giddy teenagers dating for the first time (they were, minus the being teens). As embarrassing as it was (which she imagined it would be knowing how earnest Chrom tended to be), she wouldn’t trade it for the world: actually falling in love with a man who she adored, who would move the world for her even if she didn’t ask just to see her smile. Maybe she wouldn’t get that romantic proposal anymore, they were already married, but if she could do it again she would, if only to enjoy the moment and be that blushing bride she didn’t get to be because Chrom was turning out to be everything she would ever want in a husband and father to her children.

 

“Oh? You checked all this before you came in here didn’t you?”

 

“Yeah. I wanted to go over. Olivia’s going to be there!” Robin beamed, looking up at her husband.

 

“Why would I deny my wife what she wants, hm?” His gaze softened as he regarded her, noticing the embarrassed but happy flush on her face. “Now, speaking of dinner. There’s this lovely, homey café I think you’d like.”

 

“When did you—” Robin cut herself off when she realized what place he was talking about.

 

“I think I would, but.” She pushed herself slightly against his chest. “There’s something you need to do first.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Put me down, Chrom!”

 

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“You’re early.” Cassandra smiled as she let them in, unperturbed at the security that hung around her daughter and son-in-law. It always amazed Robin at how quickly she got used to this, but that she did was all that mattered.

 

“…Early? You were expecting us?” Robin kissed her mother’s cheeks before linking their arms together.

 

“Chrom didn’t tell you?”

 

“He didn’t.” Robin shot him a look over her shoulder, her husband smiling brightly as he followed them inside.

 

The café had closed early so it could be just the three of them. Cassandra couldn’t have just let the rest of her staff take over while she took the night off at home. She lived on the second floor of the building, after all.

 

“Surprised?” Cassandra laughed, patting Robin’s arm as the climbed up the stairs.

 

“Can’t say it’s a terrible surprise.”

 

“He told me to make all of your childhood favorites.” The older blonde looked back at Chrom with a wry grin. “Which wasn’t easy! I didn’t have everything on hand, like I used to.”

 

“A challenge you were very much up to,” the prince countered, closing the door behind them. Security would have to get used to simply being right outside whenever they got together.

 

He promised to himself he’d give Robin as normal a life as possible, and if that meant making security a little bit uneasy, so be it. In any case, it wasn’t as though her mother’s place was left unguarded. He had offered, and insisted, to give Cassandra her own security detail (sparse but still) to soothe any worries his wife might have. As popular as the royal family was, there were still dangerous elements here and there, especially because Robin was half Plegian and because of who her father was. He wasn’t going to take any chances.

 

“You didn’t have to, mom.” Robin couldn’t help the large smile on her face though. Before Cassandra could even make her way to the kitchen, Robin interrupted, putting a hand on her mother’s shoulder and telling her to sit down.

 

“No no, I’ll do it. You must be tired, mom.”

 

“Is she always like that?” Chrom leaned back on his seat, watching as Robin moved around her old home, whistling and with almost a skip in her step.

 

“She likes being productive and doing everything she can to help. It makes her uneasy if there’s nothing for her to do.” She watched Robin move about with a wistful expression on her face. She sometimes felt lonely, living by herself when it had always been the two of them for so long, but she managed. She always knew this time would come.

 

Chrom turned to look at his mother-in-law, trying to school his features into neutrality.

 

“So you can imagine how difficult it was for her to resign from her job and get married to the Crown Prince.” Cassandra turned to face the prince. “Not you specifically, just the idea of it. What was she supposed to do? Sit pretty and do as she was told? Robin’s a proactive girl. Whatever she can do to make things better, she’d do it.”

 

That was why she was so hurt when he carelessly reminded her that she had no real duties to attend to, before she became patron of Read Along. The main role of the spouses of the monarch and the heir apparent was to support them in everything they did, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t do anything else. His own mother had always been active in charity work, before his father became king, and then became his father’s right hand in everything he did as king. Though he didn’t have much work related to the responsibilities of the Crown, Chrom did find some of his work overwhelming. He could only imagine Robin leap at the opportunity to help him, if he asked.

 

“That’s interesting to know.” Chrom reached out and placed a hand on top of Cassandra’s.

 

“I hope you didn’t find that presumptuous of me… Chrom.”

 

He smiled, shaking his head. It took her some time to get used to calling him just by his name. In her house, he wasn’t a prince. In her house, all he wanted to be was her son-in-law.

 

“Not at all. I’m grateful you told me.”

 

“What’s are you both talking about?” Robin set the platters down before taking her seat in between her mother and her husband.

 

“Nothing.”

 

Robin narrowed her eyes, suspicious. They were both clearly talking about something, or someone, and they both answered her at the same time. But they were getting along, and that was more than enough for her. Even at her own expense.

 

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Dinner was a quiet affair, nothing like a home cooked meal of her favorites: slow roast beef, mashed potatoes and parsnips, and a fresh salad with strawberry vinaigrette, paired with a good glass of red wine. Dessert was refreshing and crisp, a lemon and white chocolate chilled cheesecake that Cassandra had made the night before, fortunately enough. That and being treated to an amusing display of domesticity on the part of her husband, who had insisted on doing the dishes: sleeves rolled up and forearms completely soaked in water, with traces of soap bubbles along the sides of his arm.

 

“This is nice, a quiet night just the three of us.” Cassandra barely managed to stifle a yawn.

 

“Tired already mom? Go. We can handle things here.” Robin chided her gently, putting her hands on her mother’s shoulders, lightly pushing her towards her bedroom. “Don’t even think about playing the host.”

 

“We’re family, Cassandra. You don’t have to worry about us.” Chrom picked up the dish towel and wiped his arms dry, jerking his head towards the direction Robin was leading Cassandra towards. “You’ve done more than enough, preparing all the food. Next time, you should perhaps visit us so you don’t have to do any work.”

 

“Can I at least talk to your chefs and see if I can get a new recipe, or at least tips, out of them?” The older blonde laughed, eyes crinkling. The wrinkles on her skin were faint, but Robin could see them. It probably wasn’t easy being a single mother, raising a child who wanted to do all the things in the world. Things that cost money.

 

“Fine.” Chrom laughed, walking over towards his wife and his mother-in-law. “Now go. I’m sure you still have preparation to do for tomorrow.”

 

“The staff has handled most of it.” Cassandra yawned again, suddenly too aware that she was exhausted. The rush of diners the past few days was finally catching up. “But thank you for the concern.”

 

“You’re my mother. Of course I’ll be.” Robin pulled her into a fierce embrace, kissing her on both cheeks before letting go.

 

Cassandra kissed Robin on her cheeks before turning towards Chrom. She smiled softly before reaching up and patting him gently, the prince automatically leaning down when she opened her arms expectantly. Her embrace was warm and welcoming, just as he remembered it to be on his wedding day.

 

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“Did you ever think to invite your mother to live with us?” Chrom was genuinely interested in the idea. “She lives alone now. Don’t you think it would make her… less so if she stayed with us?”

 

“My mother, living here with us then going all the way to the café to work every day?” Robin faced her husband, an amused tone in her voice. “I believe she would appreciate the gesture but we’re the same and we can’t stand by doing nothing. And that place is her dream. She’ll stay there working for as long as she’s able to.”

 

“But wouldn’t she be lonely?” He climbed into their bed and pulled Robin close to him.

 

“I can imagine she will be, but she’s not exactly alone. She treats her staff like family and some of them even look up to her like they would their own mothers.” Robin looked up at Chrom, lips quirked upward as she regarded him, his brows furrowed with concern. “She’ll be fine. As long as we visit her from time to time.”

 

“If you say so…”

 

“Thank you for your concern.” She pushed herself upwards slightly, kissing Chrom on the corner of his mouth. “My mother raised me to be like her: strong and independent. Remember, you’re talking about a woman who stormed her way through the Plegian capital to tell their king she was pregnant with his child. If she’s strong enough to do that, she’s strong enough to do anything.”

 

Chrom laughed, kissing the top of his wife’s head when she reminded him of the strength of her mother.

 

“You’re absolutely right.”

 

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“I don’t look too casual or too dressed up do I?” Robin did a half-twist, examing the back of her dress on the full length mirror. It was a simple cut, a sleeveless floral sheath dress, white on top that darkened all the way to a blackened purple at the hem that skimmed her knees. It was filled with flowers that looked like cherry blossoms, pinks, peaches, and some dark purple ones against the white, that brightened to mostly white with a couple of bright rose pinks towards the bottom. Her blush pink suede pumps, in her preferred rounded toe box, were set off to the side as she continued to examine herself barefoot.

 

“I’m not the best person to ask that question, don’t you think?” Chrom ran a hand through his hair, letting it fall in its usual style. He chose to wear a steel blue linen suit with a white dress shirt, no tie, the top button undone. “You look just fine. It might be a bit cool though. Wear a jacket just to be safe?”

 

“I guess. He does tend to have the thermostat set a little on the low side.” Robin padded across the room to the closet and pulled one of her favorite blazers, in the same blackened purple as the bottom of her dress, with three-fourths sleeves, its cuffs held in place with a mother of pearl button, finished off with a notch lapel.

 

“I really don’t see the reason why you’re making such a big deal about what you’re wearing. It’s a private dinner among friends isn’t it?” Chrom moved to where Robin stood, pinching the shoulder seams of her blazer and adjusting it so the jacket fell straight down.

 

“It’s easy for you. Just pick among one of your many, many, _many_ dark colored suits and a nice tie, or one of your dress uniforms and you’re all set. For Mother, Emmeryn, Lissa, and me, Clair when she gets older, it’s not as simple as that.” Robin pulled back her hair in a low ponytail, pinning a section that looped around the hair tie to cover it up.

 

“I don’t hear you complaining about all the different clothes you get to wear though.” Chrom stepped back to admire the outfit his wife had chosen to wear, Robin a little bit taller now that she had stepped into her heels. The amused, teasing tone in his voice was evident.

 

“I’ve always enjoyed wearing nice clothes you know.” The princess stuck out her tongue playfully. “Just because I worry about how I present myself doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy getting to wear what I do!”

 

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A cool breeze blew past as they waited outside Gaius’ townhouse, the man working in product development for a popular group of pastry and chocolate shops in Ylisse. He was, in his own right, successful and provided well for himself, in addition to whatever money came from the trust his father had set up. For now, while he could, Gaius followed his passions but had to manage his time well in order to be able to properly run the Dolos estates when the time came. Adding to that were the rumors of the earldom’s elevation to a dukedom once he had inherited the title, supposedly a personal gift from the king. It was merely a change in title, more than anything else, if only to show the importance of the earl’s son as trusted friend to the Crown Prince.

 

“We brought a dessert wine.” Chrom raised the bottle in his hands as soon as Gaius opened the door, his olive green eyes glimmering.

 

“Good man!” The earl’s son stepped aside, ushering them in. “I’m assuming you’ve brought your appetite?”

 

“Is Olivia cooking?” Robin rubbed her arms, warming them up slightly, the draft particularly strong where she stood.

 

“Not everything but she is working on something in the kitchen right now.” Gaius pushed the door closed.

 

“Okay!” Robin moved past the earl’s son, making her way towards the kitchen. She always did love Olivia’s food. The dancer didn’t cook much, she didn’t have a lot of time on her hands, but knew how to eat well.

 

“Robin says you have something to tell us?” Chrom eyed his friend warily.

 

“Don’t look at me like that! I’m not planning anything crazy or stupid. We aren’t kids anymore.” Gaius stared at the prince, thoroughly wounded.

 

“So why did I get a text, in the middle of the night, about how fun it would be to play a prank on Lissa, hm?” Chrom couldn’t help the amused twitch of his lips. He did love his younger sister but he had been on the receiving end of her pranks for so many years.

 

“I’ll have you know Lissa has fun with these things! All in good fun of course, nothing serious. Just to show her she isn’t safe just because her big brother is the crown prince.” He threw Chrom an almost wicked grin, like he’d been plotting it already. Even he had been the recipient of some of Lissa’s pranks, candies designed to look absolutely delicious only for them to be incredibly bitter or incredibly sour.

 

Just as Chrom was about to retort, a loud, excited shriek came from the kitchen. He was about to run towards his wife but was stopped by Gaius, the earl’s son’s head hanging slightly.

 

“They’re fine. Your wife is fine. It’s just… the cat is out of the bag now I suppose.”

 

“I guess this has to do with what you wanted to tell us?”

 

“Yup.”

 

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Dinner was excellent, mostly filled with talk about grand romantic gestures that had Gaius red in the face, steam coming out of his ears. He proposed after their last show for the current season, short because the company had many different dances planned out for the year, more than usual but these were all repeats from seasons past. Gaius had entered backstage with a bouquet of her favorite flowers, pink peonies arranged with some white Forget-Me-Nots and a mix of salmon and pale pink Bouvardia. Just when the dancer thought he was just going up to her, as usual, with a mix of fondness and pride as he kissed her on the cheek, Gaius dropped down on one knee.

 

“Thanks for coming.” Gaius felt the back of his neck warm as he scratched the back of it, his grin filled with a mix of goofy, happy, and nervous.

 

“It was nice spending the evening with you two.” Olivia leaned into Gaius just a little, an errant breeze coming their way. “We should do this again, when you’re both free.”

 

Robin smiled brightly, pulling Olivia into one last embrace before they had to go. Chrom’s bodyguards were shuffling uneasily behind them, what with them out in the open like this.

 

“You should tell mom okay? She loves you just as much.” She squeezed Olivia’s hand before finally stepping back, shifting her blazer by shrugging her shoulders.

 

“Tomorrow. We’re planning to have lunch there.” The dancer smiled. She loved Cassandra like a mother.

 

After what seemed like forever, Chrom and Robin finally made their way down the stoop and into the car, Gaius and Olivia watching them from the doorway, one last wave before the engine finally roared back into life.

 

He smiled, amused, when Robin shuffled closer to him, could feel the buzz of excitement coming from her. She was a romantic at heart, probably a little more than miffed that she never got the proposal, or courtship really, of her fantasies. A small voice in the back of his mind told him he should fix that.

 

“Did you see the ring? It was absolutely gorgeous!” Robin sighed dreamily, leaning her head on Chrom’s shoulder. The slight chill from outside made her lean in closer, eyes closing as she relaxed against him.

 

It was a beautiful rose gold ring, with an oval cut pale pink sapphire with a halo of small, sparkling white diamonds, the pavé setting of the band going around halfway, stopping where it curved towards the underside of her ring finger. The prong setting held the stone in place, the rose gold over top was a striking contrast to the otherwise elegant and feminine design. The gems on the ring caught light beautifully, a testament to the high quality craftsmanship, sparkling and bright. It was an unusual ring, having a colored stone as a centerpiece, but Gaius was an unusual man and in his eyes, Olivia the most striking woman he’d ever met. He said he chose it because the center stone was a lovely complement to the dancer’s petal pink hair.

 

Olivia’s ring dazzled against the dress she wore. It was a simple, white, A line dress with a flouncy skirt, sleeves loosely fitted and reaching up to the midsection of her upper arms. The round neck dipped into a small v at the center, highlighting her delicate collarbones. The entire thing had a sheer floral overlay of large magnolias, the inner lining reaching to just above her knees, the overlay extending the hem to a few inches past her knees, a prelude to how she’d look as a blushing bride no doubt.

 

All while Robin was no doubt thinking about the elegant sparkler, her husband’s gaze lowered, landing on her left hand, delicately placed on top of her lap, his eyes focusing on his wife’s own rings glimmering despite the low light.

 

“I did.” He picked up her left hand with his own, their matching rings almost touching, and bringing her hand to his lips, intentionally kissing the rings he had given her. “Please don’t tell me I got the design wrong. I’ll have you know I asked your mother what kind of jewelry you liked.” He kissed her rings again, lips brushing slightly against her cool skin, eyes trained upwards and never letting her gaze go.

 

“I… I…” She looked away, nervously tucking loose hair behind her ear. Of course she loved the design! It was elegant and paired beautifully with her wedding ring, a detail he no doubt stressed when he was talking to the jeweler.

 

Chrom laughed, deep and low that always set the butterflies in her stomach aflutter and electricity running down her spine. His eyes went sideways when he heard a gentle whirr, the privacy window being rolled up before he turned his attention back to his wife. His hand moved to hold her chin between his fingers, turning her head to face him. Her eyes widened and was about to protest but Chrom pulled her in for a kiss, soft and chaste and sweet, her hands instinctively resting against his chest for support.

 

“The rings you’ve given me are beautiful,” she whispered, eyes downcast and focusing on the two metal bands she wore on her left hand. “I didn’t know there was so much thought that went into it.”

 

“I had it made for you, love,” he stressed, kissing her forehead affectionately. “Because I wanted it to be special. No ordinary ring could ever suit you.”

 

She pulled her hand away from his, reaching up and cupping his cheek, thumb stroking his cheekbones. Robin couldn’t say anything, not with all these overwhelming, but pleasant, feelings blooming inside of her, so she let her actions do the talking. And it seemed Chrom understood, covering her hand with his own as he leaned into her palm, eyes half-lidded as he gazed at her with the gentlest smile she had ever seen on a man’s face, on her husband’s face.

 

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Robin groaned, unmindful of Frederick’s displeased look. There were just too many of them, too many names and faces to match, not to mention their positions in either nobility, government, or society. She already had a mild headache, a dull throb by her temples.

 

“Tell me again why I have to memorize all of this?” She waved her hand tiredly over the chart that Frederick had expertly prepared. She felt like a petulant child but this was just being sprung up on her. It was hard enough to remember all the rules on how to act in public. It had been fairly easy since her marriage, if only because there hadn’t been too many events that required mingling with people of some import, just exchanging of pleasantries was enough. But this dinner next month was a different matter altogether.

 

“It’s an annual dinner, Ma’am. Think of it like a networking thing, where people of varying degrees of influence talk and meet about political and economic issues,” Cordelia explained, eyeing the princess sympathetically. “I know these are a lot of names but you’re a quick study. You’ve already gotten a good number of the different nobles committed to memory and well, at least you already know the more popular government officials.”

 

“Yes, the prime minister and the foreign secretary especially.” She couldn’t help the acerbic tone in her voice. Never mind, it was within closed doors and not like Frederick and Cordelia didn’t already know her feelings towards them, mostly healed but not really at the same time. It wasn’t like her to hold a grudge but to be openly used like that was a different story.

 

“If it’s any consolation, Ma’am, you’re taking to this a lot more easily than the Duke of Chiron did back when he had to do this the first time.” Frederick shrugged before rapping his knuckles against the edges of the chart. “Now, let us continue.”

 

“Are you really Chrom’s private secretary?” Robin’s eyes narrowed but she refocused her gaze back onto the chart. This was a fairly easy group, at least. Most of them were the closer friends, and perhaps even confidants, of the king. The brunet left the easier ones for last.

 

“What do you mean, Ma’am?”

 

“Well, here you are teaching me all sorts of things, and apparently Liam too. Seems like you’re a private tutor.” Robin reached out towards the chart, fingers tracing the text printed beneath a familiar looking man. “But thank you, for taking the time out of your busy schedule to help.”

 

Frederick’s eyes widened ever so slightly before they softened, a small smile on his lips.

 

“It’s my pleasure, Ma’am.”

 

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.

 

The brunet looked at his watch, the crease of his brow smoothing over when he registered the time. He was right on time, just a few seconds to spare really, to make his appointment with Chrom in the prince’s offices. They were still in Thallo Palace, the old apartments of the king and queen having been converted to offices for the Prince and Princess of Ylisstol, though Robin’s were still in the midst of being set up (sooner rather than later at least), the wing just across the official residence of the prince and princess. Chrom had insisted, much like his own parents, that work be separate from home.

 

“Sir?” Frederick knocked, peeking into the room but standing just outside.

 

“Come in.” Chrom signed his name with a slight flourish before capping the pen and setting it down on the table. “How were her lessons today? Robin was telling me this morning she wasn’t looking forward to them at all.” An amused smile pulled at the corner of his lips, a miracle it didn’t actually fully form.

 

“They went well. We’ve been over almost everyone on the guest list and the dinner is still in two weeks. She’s a very quick study, if I may say so myself.”

 

If Chrom saw Frederick’s chest puff out with the smallest hint of pride, the prince didn’t say anything.

 

“That’s good.” Chrom leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “How are the preparations going for this weekend?”

 

“The chefs in your apartment have just informed me the tasting portions of the meal you have planned will be ready upon your arrival. Cordelia is still working out some more details with the princess so she should be occupied for at least the next hour or so.”

 

“Good. I’m just about done for the day anyway.”

 

“If I may be so bold, Sir.” Frederick shifted in place, a little uneasy but his curiosity was winning right now.

 

“Hm?” Chrom raised a brow, shifting forward in his seat.

 

“What are you doing? Not that I don’t think this is a good idea.”

 

“Recent events.” The prince smiled, standing up from his seat. “Did you know Gaius proposed to his girlfriend just recently? She’s a principal dancer at the Ylisstol Ballet, you know.”

 

“Gaius? He proposed? Part of me wants to meet this woman who has enough strength to bear with him for a day, much less the rest of their lives!” Frederick looked shocked at the idea that anyone could, but it was all in jest. Or, most of it anyway.

 

“She’s an angel, and apparently Robin’s best friend. You should have seen her face when she weaseled out the proposal from the two of them, all stars and red cheeks and happy smiles. It made me wish I could do something like that for her.” Chrom swallowed before continuing. “Didn’t you do romantic things for Cherche while you were dating, even now as a married couple?”

 

“I… do.” The brunet looked away, his cheeks a faint red.

 

“All Robin ever wanted is a normal and happy life. She doesn’t seem unhappy to me, but I can imagine it gets tough for her. I was born into this life. She never asked for it. The hurt on her face when she was used to make trade negotiations with Plegia easier?”

 

Frederick nodded. That hadn’t been easy, finding out just what the foreign secretary had done.

 

“It won’t be the last time, I’m sure, where the pressures of this life will get to her, not as my wife, but I’ll do everything I can do give her as normal a life as possible.”

 

“I’m glad that even though yours is an arranged marriage, Sir, that you love your wife fully and wholeheartedly.”

 

“I’m a lucky man, Frederick, a lucky, lucky man.”

 

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“Darling! What a pleasure it is to see you again.” Cherche stood up from her seat and pulled Robin into an embrace. If Lon’qu was at all alarmed at the designer’s proximity to his charge, he didn’t show it. He did at least know the designer was Frederick’s wife and that Robin herself preferred to be as casual as she could, at least when there were no eyes on her. “I’ve already taken the liberty of choosing a dress for you, based on what you liked based on when we worked together.”

 

“Nothing dark I hope? I realize that perhaps I shouldn’t lean too much on dark colors. They can make me look austere.” Robin smiled, letting herself be led by the designer back into the shop’s floor. It was closed for the afternoon, to allow the princess privacy and time, but she didn’t think she’d need too much of it. She loved most, if not all, of Cherche’s designs, trendy pieces that had one focal point in its design, everything else a complement.

 

“Darling, with your smile, you could never look austere!” The designer put her hands on Robin’s shoulder, guiding her to a small, sectioned off corner.

 

Robin could see some tulle peeking out from the corner, a pale color she couldn’t quite figure out from the distance. She made a startled, but pleased, noise when she saw the dress, fit for a princess in a fairy tale.

 

“Go on, try it. I don’t think I’ll need to take it in anywhere but let’s see.” Cherche smiled, urging her forward to the dressing room. “Do you need any help?”

 

“Maybe for the zipper.” Robin laughed, eyes sparkling as she reached out to touch the bodice. “I’m not sure if I can reach it.” She turned around and paused, looking at her reflection and the dress’s in the mirror across, a slight frown forming on her brow.

 

“Anything the matter darling?”

 

“Maybe my hair too?” The blonde pulled her loose hair off to one side. “If it isn’t down, my hair is usually tied back or in some sort of low, messy bun.”

 

“Of course! Go get dressed. I think I have just the thing for you.” Cherche smiled again before pulling the curtains closed.

 

It didn’t take her long to get dressed, the gown simple to wear but the zipper was just a bit challenging for her to reach. Robin had her arms pressed against her chest, holding the bodice down when Cherche came back, the designer laughing, amused, as she set two boxes down and helped the princess.

 

“What did you get?” Robin fluffed her hair back, turning around, her skirts moving along with her.

 

“Shoes.” Cherche pulled out a pair of lavender satin slingback heels, handing it to Robin as she motioned for the princess to sit down in the chair beside her. “And a hair clip so I can pin your hair back.”

 

When all was said and done, Robin running her finger against the strap to adjust, she looked at herself in the mirror, unable to keep a giddy smile off of her face.

 

The gown Cherche brought out for her was a pale lavender, that brought out the blue and the purple sapphires in Robin’s engagement ring, the structured sweetheart neckline accentuating her collar bones. The bodice was embroidered with cut beads of muted golds and silvers, stitched in a vintage design like a drape chandelier. The back of it was low, a handprint away from her shoulder blades, much like her wedding dress. The floor length A-line skirt was full but light, with a short train of two feet, made of layers of tulle in the same pale lavender, punctuated by the occasional peek of sky blue and a darker lavender underneath. Cherche styled Robin’s hair h in an elegant chignon, pinned in place with a muted white gold clip almost shaped like a rounded butterfly wing.

 

“Cherche this is amazing!” Robin smiled widely. She felt absolutely silly and like she was a kid in a candy store all at the same time. “How do you do it? Make all these gorgeous dresses that make anyone who wears them feel like a princess!”

 

The designer laughed, stepping back a couple of paces to take in the entire look.

 

“Darling, you _are_ a princess. Anything you wear should make you feel that way!”

 

Robin flushed.

 

“And as to how I do it? Well, trade secret.” The designer’s deep pink eyes sparkled. “So you’ll just have to keep coming back to figure it out!”

 

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“Where are we going?” Robin laughed, clutching her husband’s arm as he guided her. He insisted that she wear a blindfold, that where he was taking her was a surprise. It shouldn’t have been very far, still within their apartment since all they were doing was walking. Nothing too fancy, just a casual dinner date: dark wash jeans, tan ballet flats, and a loose chiffon black blouse with a white peter pan collar and a delicate pair of pink Valmese pearl drop earrings.

 

“Almost there.”

 

She could hear the mild, chiding tone in his voice, his amusement.

 

He was equally as dressed down in casual slacks, a navy tailored short sleeved shirt with a fine cream window check, and blue and white boat shoes. If they could only go out to the movies and enjoy the night like any other normal couple, he would’ve done that but this was the best he could do. He hoped it was more than enough to make her happy.

 

“Here we are. Don’t move. I’ll take off your blindfold now.” His mouth was next to her ear when he spoke, fingers brushing against her skin to the knot at the back of her head, her knees going a little weak. The silk slid against her, cool to the touch and she opened her eyes slowly, adjusting to the light. Just as she was about to take a step forward, Chrom held her back, his arms around her waist as he pressed the sides of their heads together.

 

He had their private garden decorated with soft fairy lights and long, tapered candles, faint music setting a romantic tone. There were artfully arranged flowers surrounding them, a mix of the last of the spring blooms with some early summer ones, a single yellow lily across her place at the table, set up under a large canopy. She felt her heart grow big with affection.

 

“Well?”

 

“It’s beautiful.” Her voice was breathless, her eyes starry, and her cheeks rosy. She pulled away from Chrom, walking towards the table, her fingers moving across the wood. “When did you find the ti—”

 

Robin stared at him, confused when he approached her and took her hand, taking her engagement ring off of her finger. Her heart nearly stopped when he started to go down on one knee, unmindful of the dirt and grass that were going to get stuck on his slacks.

 

“I can’t ask you to marry me, but I can ask the next best thing.” Chrom looked up at her, a sheepish smile on his face, as he watched her free hand close over her mouth, tears rimming her eyes.

 

Here they were, in the gardens of their home, soft lights and sweet music surrounding them, and her husband looked like he was proposing to her. He already did, more than a year ago, but it felt cold and distant, merely a formality, but this? This had her heart racing and her breath hitching, her eyes glassy and tears slowly rolling down her cheek.

 

“What’s… that?” She amazed herself by even being able to speak.

 

“Can you take this as a sign of my undying devotion to you?” His voice almost cracked at the end, but he pushed on when he saw her head tilt slightly as though nodding. “We made our vows in front of Naga with our wedding rings, but take this engagement ring as a sign of everything you mean to me. I told you that I had the ring especially made for you right?”

 

“Y-yeah.” 

 

“I picked out these stones specifically.” He kissed her ring finger, his breath hot against her cool skin, eyes trained upwards and never letting her gaze go. “The purple for you, the blue for me, the center diamond for Ylisse, all from my mother’s personal collection as a way of welcoming you into the family.”

 

Robin could only stare back at him dumbfounded, her lips slightly parted, her entire face bright red.

 

“I… I…”

 

He pushed the sparkling ring back on top of her wedding ring, pressing her palm against his cheek, remaining on the ground still.

 

That was all it took for Robin to crouch low beside him, pulling her hand away from his face only to grab his collar and kiss him fiercely.

 

It was a reaction he didn’t expect, eyes widening briefly before he leaned in, arms moving as he somehow managed to maneuver them both to standing if only to pull her completely flush against him. She ended up balancing on her toes, her weight pressed fully against him, her hands still twisting the cotton of his shirt for balance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say my favorite kind of Chrobin scene to write are the sweet moments, filled with so much meaning. It’s just so easy to and so fun! I can imagine that despite Chrom being pretty awkward, he always gives more than 100% when it comes to doing anything for Robin and it was such a joy to write so many of these scenes for this chapter <3
> 
> Here’s the [dress](https://www.dresshead.com/floral-summer-sheath-dress-sleeveless-multicolor/) Robin wears for their dinner :o and her [blazer](http://www.lizzieedwards.com/personalstylistblog/3-of-the-best-slouchy-blazers%0A) (the Zara one). This is the [dress](https://modafashionlove.com/new-arrival-dresses/ONLY-PLUS-S-XXL-Women-White-Dress-Short-Sleeve-A-Line-Midi-Party-Dress-Casual-Elegant-Knee-Length-Dr-32850439591) Olivia wears! I’ve always thought that in my AUs, Robin tends to prefer things that are more tailored, but still feminine, classics while Olivia prefers things that have an airy, ethereal feel to them. For more formal looks, Robin likes things that are easy to move around in! Olivia, on the other hand, would probably love to wear gowns with skirts that move beautifully, since she’s a dancer, and lots of flowers and vintage looking things!
> 
> This is Olivia’s [engagement ring](https://www.jamesallen.com/gemstone-rings/pink-sapphire-engagement-rings/1.90-carat-halo-engagement-ring-1798089)! I really like the look of Princess Diana’s sapphire engagement ring for Olivia so I’m glad I was able to find a design that looked similar but was more on the pinks and coppers for our favorite (shy) dancer :o
> 
> Robin’s dress comes from [here](http://www.thedandelionpatch.com/pastel-gowns/), scroll down to the purple dress, and [these](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/34/65/2d/34652debae91b522a95a3e24bb2540f5.jpg%0A) are her shoes. Of course after watching the royal wedding and learning how Meghan Markle has to dress a lot more conservatively… well I threw that out the door with the wedding dress I chose for Robin so… LMAO. Anyway, I never felt that Ylissean royalty were particularly stuffy and conservative with how they dress. I mean Emmeryn’s sage outfit looks really conservative but BAM those high slits aren’t at all. Neither are the dresses of the Pegasus Knights (Cordelia/ Sumia).
> 
> But really, all these fashion rules that the royal family follows… not that it’s particularly stifling but I personally find they could loosen them up a bit. What’s wrong with seeing your shoulders??? Meghan Markle’s wedding dress just barely fit the rule you’re not supposed to show off your shoulders in Saint George’s Chapel and her second dress for the evening reception was already seen as risky.
> 
> The scene where Robin feels her heart grow big is taken from a Filipino metaphor “tumataba ang puso” which literally translates to your heart becoming fat but really talks about how you’re overwhelmed with positive emotions (joy, happiness, pride, love, that sort of thing), depending on the context. I found that concept perfect for that scene so hopefully I was able to properly convey the meaning and translate it as well as I could, rather than do a literal translation since I don’t think this metaphor is found in other languages, or at least definitely not English.
> 
> As usual, your kudos and comments are my lifeblood <3


	8. I Said Who Do You Think You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an advance disclaimer that I’ve tried to make sure as many of the rules and protocols about public appearances are in line with British tradition (which is the monarchy I’m basing this story off of!), it’s really very confusing xD So I tried to make it as accurate as possible but where information is lacking, I take full creative license for my choices. Same thing goes with forms of address but I have Wikipedia for that xD
> 
> The title is a line from Who Do You Think You Are by the Spice Girls (shout out to anyone (90s kids especially) who loves the Spice Girls and are still upset, to this day, that they only have two albums! This clearly shows my age LMAO) 
> 
> There’s one particular scene that drove me to choose this particular lyric for this chapter title. Pretty obvious, I should think, as to which scene it is, when you get to it

Robin stared at the pale lilac dress, set up on a dress form to maintain its shape, in the middle of one of the rooms for their future children. The designer had finished the alterations quickly, they were fairly minor to begin with and Cherche had designed this with Robin in mind after seeing the princess in her wedding dress, and sent it over soon after. She found it strange, how something so light and airy and soft and pretty made her feel invincible, her shoulders and collar bones bare, the sharp angles of her shoulder blades highlighted where the back of her dress ended. The beadwork was intricate but somehow understated (muted golds and silvers after all) and the entire thing was just so demure and pretty. She could never stop calling it that, pretty.

 

The princess reached out, one arm crossed and cupping her other elbow, free hand reaching out, the pads of her fingers delicately following the embroidery, faint silver and gold threads used to match the beads. It was a lie to say she never dreamt of wearing clothes like these as a little girl, but she never thought it would actually come true. It was hard to be enamored with her wedding dress when she had been forced into this wedding, but feelings change and she looked back at it fondly, noting the similarities between the two dresses. The other evening gowns she had worn were elegant and sophisticated, but they were still nothing quite like this, not having completely absorbed her attention so much so she didn’t hear her husband knocking then entering the room.

 

Robin screamed and nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt cold, almost icy, glass on her nape. She whipped her head around quickly, hand raised in a fist like she was getting ready to punch, only for her knees to weaken and legs to wobble when she faced her ass of a husband, amused smile and all.

 

“You scared me!” Robin huffed, hitting his chest weakly with her fist, forehead resting against him, other hand on top of her wildly beating heart in an attempt to get it to slow down.

 

“Evidently.” He grinned, one hand outstretched with the cold glass of water she suspected he used against her, the other one snaking around her waist and pulling her flush against him. “You were so distracted with the dress I had to find a way to bring you back!”

 

She hated the triumphant smile on his face (but oh how she loved it, really).

 

“You’re incorrigible.” Robin pouted, turning her head to rest her temple on his chest but wrapped her arms around his waist anyway.

 

“Sorry, love, but you were so deep into whatever rabbit hole you were in I just had to pull you out!” Chrom laughed, sipping some more water before kissing the top of her head. He felt her shiver, probably from his cool, damp lips pressing on a sensitive spot on the crown of her head. “What were you thinking about?” He rested his chin on top of her head, pulling his occupied hand closer to them but mindful of keeping it away from his wife.

 

“The dinner.”

 

“What about it?”

 

“It’s… big and important isn’t it?”

 

“Like all things we go to.”

 

“But this is the first one that’s a state affair.” Robin squeezed him tighter, like she was trying to reassure herself. “Yes there was the ballet, and your birthday, but those were casual events compared to this. Many important people from society, government, and various industries are going to be there!”

 

“And you’ll be fine. I’ll be there with you every step of the way.” Chrom pulled back a little, pushing Robin back slightly if only to properly cup her cheek, his thumb running over her cheekbone. She leaned into his touch, eyes closing like a satisfied cat, a pleased hum rumbling lowly in her throat. “You’ve been studying up on who everyone is, latest policies and international affairs, you know enough about a number of industries you were initially interested in anyway. No one expects you to know everything and to be quite honest, you already more than surpassed what anyone hoped you’d know by this time.”

 

“It sounds like a backhanded compliment.” Robin lifted her gaze up towards Chrom’s deep blue ones, leaning forward to press her chin sharply against his sternum, the prince wincing slightly, hand previously on her cheek pulling back. “Choose your next words well, husband.”

 

“Everyone is just surprised, and impressed, about how much of a quick study you are, that’s all I meant by it.” He kissed the center of her forehead, smoothing away the frown that had formed.

 

“Damn straight.”

 

Chrom blinked owlishly, staring at Robin like he had never heard anything but polite language all his life.

 

“Do you think that when it’s just the two of us, I’m going to hold myself back?” Her cinnamon chocolate eyes glimmered with mirth and mischief.

 

All he could do was laugh and pull her even closer, somehow managing to spin them around despite how close to him he wanted to keep her, only one arm holding tight around his waist (but both of hers around his), and the half full glass of cold water in his other hand.

 

“You’re amazing and a breath of fresh air. Have I ever told you that?” His eyes were deep and warm and full of affection as he gazed down at her, smile slight but there for her, only for her.

 

“No.” She lifted one hand up to his cheek, fingers running lightly against his (what she always thought was handsome) jaw.

 

“Well then. You are amazing and a breath of fresh air, love.”

 

His voice was soft and music to her ears, and she rewarded him with a smile so sweet his heart stuttered in his chest at the sight of it, committing it to memory (but he hoped it wasn’t going to be the last time he’d ever see such a thing).

 

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Lissa stared glumly at her sister and sister-in-law, elbows perched on the table, base of her palms resting against each other, chin on top, green eyes flickering between the two older women. It was a relaxing afternoon, business already taken care of, with enough time for tea and cakes before Emmeryn and Robin went their separate ways home. Sofia had invited them to come over and select jewelry from the vault, jewelry Lissa wanted to wear but couldn’t, not all of them anyway.

 

“You guys sure are lucky.” The youngest sighed dramatically, draping herself across the table, arms expertly weaving through the three tier tea tray, pots, and teacups on top.

 

“Lissa.” Emmeryn sent a disapproving look towards her sister’s way.

 

“Fine, fine. Sorry,” Lissa mumbled, sitting up straight and crossing her arms. “Still, you have to admit that you are lucky.”

 

Robin and Emmeryn looked at each other, a little puzzled, before turning their heads back towards Lissa.

 

“Yes, I’m sure we are luckier than most, but what, exactly, makes you say that?” Robin set her cup and saucer down, steam curling up gently from the pale amber tea. It was a brown rice green tea from Chon’sin and was quickly becoming her favorite: warm, soothing, and filling and paired well with light cakes and sandwiches.

 

“The tiaras you get to wear!” Lissa’s eyes glimmered brightly.

 

Emmeryn had selected a favorite, the Flower of Royalty Suite, the tiara made of a pale yellow, almost rose, gold, diamond set fleur-de-lis going across the entire band with an antique, round cut diamond topping off each flower, a sheaf of three leaves and a cluster of the same round cut diamonds set like holly berries at the base of each sheaf filling the space between each fleur-de-lis. It came with a set of drop earrings, three round cut diamonds set in a vertical line with a delicate fleur-de-lis at the end, and a vintage diamond necklace with a delicate chain made of the same gold, fleur-de-lis resting gently across the space beneath her collar bones, the largest one right at the hollow of her throat.

 

“Lissa, you know only married women get to wear them. It’s not like you don’t know that.” Emmeryn put her hand on top of her younger sister’s own, thumb grazing gently against the back of it. “You should be in no hurry to get married either, if that’s all your after. Wearing the tiaras, I mean.” It was a stern statement, Emmeryn’s own green eyes warm despite the reprimand.

 

“I know I know, but still. It feels like I’m always being excluded.” Lissa groaned, but managed to not drape herself over the table, but the temptation was still there.

 

“Better than constantly being scrutinized, I assure you.” Robin put her hand on top of Lissa’s other one.

 

She was sure that Chrom and his sisters were always being watched like a hawk by the public, their every move either criticized or praised, and it wasn’t a life they asked for, but still. There was something to be said about how fiercely protective their parents were about the private lives of their children, and now their children’s own families, but still, they were public figures and the appetite of Ylisseans and foreigners alike was insatiable when it came to them.

 

“You just graduated, don’t be in such a rush to grow up. Take your time and let things happen as they do, rather than be pushed into the waters and be told to swim when you don’t know how.” Robin managed to stop herself from looking down and pretending to feel sorry for herself.

 

“Oh Robin!” The youngest princess quickly stood up from her chair and hugged her brother’s wife. “I’m sorry, that must have been insensitive.”

 

“No no, it’s fine. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.” Robin’s smile wasn’t forced, glad for the easy atmosphere with her sisters-in-law. She really was lucky, much as she was forced into a situation she didn’t want to find herself in. She could see Emmeryn half-up from her chair, reaching out to her. “Sit, please. You both fussing over me like this is going to make me uncomfortable.”

 

“Still, you have to admit, seeing all the jewelry in the collection, both Mother’s and the ones owned by the Crown, makes you want to wear it.” Lissa grinned, falling back into her seat with relative ease. As impressive as Sofia’s own jewelry was, it was nothing compared to the ones owned by the Crown, a number of the different parures and suites on loan to different museums and some even to relatives of noble blood, to sisters of past kings expected to be returned upon their retirement from royal duties or their death, the jewelry having much sentimental value to them more than it did the queen. “Are you sure you don’t want to borrow any of the other tiaras Mother has?”

 

“I am. I think the one I wore to my wedding will suit me just fine,” Robin reassured, taking a tomato sandwich from the tray. It was overwhelming, to say the least, to pick among the many available options, and she didn’t want to take any chances.

 

Her dress for the dinner reminded her enough of her wedding dress, and there was something to be said about wearing the wedding gift of her in-laws: a tiara inspired by angel wings, bedecked in diamonds of various cuts to make it sparkle as it sat against her white blonde hair, matched with the brightest of round cut diamond earrings, and a simple necklace made of diamonds in the same cut. Media had taken to calling it the Romantic Plume Suite, an ode to the feathery design of the tiara and the sweet, dainty look it had.

 

“Now eat. Please. Don’t make me be the only one.” Robin laughed, resting her left elbow on the edge of the table, and propping her cheek against her left palm, her wedding and engagement rings sparkling in the afternoon sun. If she had it her way, really the only jewelry she’d need were the pieces she wore every day on her left hand.

 

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“Please, ma cherie, no frowning! The makeup will crease and I _just_ finished.” Jean spritzed a fine mist of setting spray across her face, fanning it dry with a stiff card. Her makeup was simple, brown and plum (the perfect color for her, the makeup artist insisted, mysterious and elegant at the same time) smoky eye lined with dark brown kohl, natural brows and lashes, a peachy, coral flush, and a plum lip with a satin finish.

 

“That’s exactly what you told me during my wedding.” Robin glanced upwards and smiled, her hair already pulled back in a delicate chignon, her jewelry lying flat on her vanity.

 

“With jewels like these and a husband like yours? There’s no real reason for you to frown.” The blond grinned, switching from his usual pale yellow to purple hair to a mix between sea green and sky blue this time. “Come now, chin up and shoulders back. I need to fix your tiara just so.”

 

His hands were trembling slightly, this being the second time in his life he handled such a delicate piece. If Robin noticed, she said nothing, opting to close her eyes instead and do as instructed. A sharp rap on the door pulled them back down as they both looked at the entry way, a little surprised.

 

“Oh? I hope I’m not interrupting.”

 

“Not at all, Your Highness. I was just about to put the tiara on your wife.” Jean was about to bow but the prince cut him off.

 

“No need, Jean. I know how much my wife adores you and your husband. Any friend of hers is a friend of mine.” Chrom looked over towards Robin, a little amused at how easily she was blushing right now, and how the warm redness of her skin travelled all the way down to her décolletage. “It seems I’ve arrived at the right time.”

 

“What do you mean? Are we leaving early?” Robin did a half-twist in her seat, to look at Chrom better.

 

“No no, but I’d hate to have arrived to have Jean ruin his work because your tiara needs to be replaced.” He smiled, lifting the velvet trimmed carrying case that had gone unnoticed.

 

“What do you mean, Sir?”

 

Chrom jerked his head sideways, beckoning them to follow him to another table. The velvet slipped easily from the jewelry case inside, sturdy satin ribbons attached at a diagonal to both halves of the case.

 

“Mother said these would suit you and your dress better,” the prince said simply, shrugging his shoulders. “So she had these sent over this morning, when she realized that you didn’t choose anything when you visited the other day.”

 

“How?” She reached her hand out timidly, almost afraid to touch anything in front of her.

 

“Cherche stopped by at the castle along with Frederick, and Mother happened to chance upon them, so she asked what you were wearing. When she heard from Lissa that you weren’t going to borrow any of the jewelry from the collection, she had this suite brought out specifically for you.” Chrom took her hand and moved it over to the cushioned interior of the box. “It seems she’s very fond of you. This is one of her favorite suites and not many wear it without her express permission.”

 

It was an opal and white gold set of jewelry, Sofia’s favored Iridescence Suite, so named for the many shifting opals that were gifted to Sirius’ grandmother for her wedding, regifted to his mother, then to his wife at the occasion of Chrom’s birth. The suite was part of Sofia’s personal collection, and was hers to do with as she so pleased, and it seemed almost tradition that it go to the wife of the future king.

 

“I can see why, Sir. It’s a gorgeous set and the opals would work well with the pastels of the princess’ dress.” Jean hummed approvingly, eyes roving over the pieces inside the box.

 

“Mother says it’s on loan to you indefinitely.” Chrom smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss on Robin’s temple. “Now, I’ll leave you both to it to get ready, shall I?”

 

Robin nodded, but kept her head down, biting her inner cheek to stop herself from crying, immensely touched.

 

“Really, ma cherie, you have no reason to frown or cry at all.” Jean pulled her into an embrace, mindful not to press against her too much that his work would be ruined.

 

The tiara itself was white gold, in a classic Baroque style that was popular then and still fashionable now, dotted with oval cut opals around the base. The peaks of the tiara were of different levels, gently sloping down before going back up in groups of five: tall, medium, short, medium, tall then back down. At the top of each of the tall and short peaks was a small, round cut diamond, a round cut opal on top of the medium peaks. Inside the case were three more pieces of jewelry: a simple pair of opal earrings, in the same oval cut, surrounded by a halo of diamonds, a matching ring and pendant necklace, all in the same white gold, the opal on the pendant big enough to be noticeable as it rested on the space between her collar bones.

 

When Jean was done arranging the Baroque style tiara on her head and the suite she had planned to wear safely put back in a hidden vault, Robin was left to her own devices. Her fingers were resting on the pendant around her neck, cool against her skin, her free arm wrapped around her waist. It really did suit her, with how it glimmered beautifully in the light, how the white gold was polished just enough to complement the gems and how it sat prettily atop her head, her blonde hair woven around the ends of the tiara to secure it.

 

“Ready?”

 

She turned around to face her husband, Chrom stretching out his hand.

 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

 

She took his hand gratefully, fingers curling in his palm.

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Robin shifted in her seat, nervous, knees knocking together beneath the multiple layers of tulle. Her right hand clutched the empty space between them, muscles taut with tension. There were so many parked cars on the side of the road and even from a distance, she could see the flashing lights of cameras. She was so preoccupied with staring out the window she didn’t realize that Chrom had taken her hand, focus brought back into the car when he squeezed her hand reassuringly.

 

He wasn’t even looking at her, other elbow propped up by the window, palm supporting his chin, as he stared at the window, but his hold of her hand was sure.

 

“Thank you,” she murmured, keeping her hand still in his.

 

“You’ll be fine.” He turned around and kissed her forehead, smiling gently. “You prepared for this.”

 

They were silent the rest of the way, the lights and the chatter growing brighter and louder as the car inched forward to the driveway. It felt like the red carpet, even if it wasn’t, with all the official photographers from news outlets and reputable magazines (for the fashion of course, this was still an event where people dressed up to the nines).

 

“Stay in the car.”

  
Robin looked at the back of her husband, confused, watching him exit with presumably a kind smile on his face and a courteous nod as he straightened his tuxedo jacket. But she waited, patiently, head turning to follow him then body twisting to her side of the car when her neck hurt. Her eyes widened slightly when the car door opened, a boyish grin on Chrom’s face when he bent down and offered out a hand to her.

 

“My princess.”

 

Oh.

 

_Oh._

 

“My prince.” She smiled, following along, her voice soft and sweet as she took his hand and let him help her out of the car. “Or should I call you a knight in a blue tuxedo? How very chivalrous of you, husband.”

 

The lilt in her voice was teasing and playful.

 

“My mother taught me to help whenever I can, especially people dressed in cumbersome attire. I do apologize for forcing you to wear such a thing.” His voice was low but full of mischief, eyes shining with affection.

 

“You’ll make it up to me somehow.” Robin pat his forearm, leaning slightly into him when a light breeze blew past them.

 

She could hear voices around her, asking who they were wearing, how she was feeling, remarking how handsome of a couple they made with her fairy tale-like dress of pastel and fluffy skirts, even brighter against the dark sapphire blue of Chrom’s tuxedo with its crisp white shirt, black shawl lapels, and black bow tie, leather shoes shined to perfection. But she wasn’t paying any attention to any of them, just at the kind, reassuring face of her husband who would help see her through the entire event, ever the gentleman.

 

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Robin smiled prettily and with an abundance of grace, like she’d been told to. Smile just enough to be courteous, but not so much so to seem too friendly that she looked like she was favoring someone. She was the newest royal, and perhaps the easiest and the most difficult to approach at the same time, but if there was anyone’s favor that tonight’s guests wanted, it was hers. She was the future queen after all, and it was plain to see that her husband adored her. While Sirius would be king for a long time coming, it never hurt to look ahead, whether in business or in politics, and have a few different plans in place.

 

“Your Royal Highness, you look absolutely wonderful this evening!”

 

The princess smiled and nodded, a little uncomfortable still at everyone either bowing or curtseying to her. Though she was without a title herself, Frederick explained that as the wife of the crown prince, even without him by her side her station commanded deference

 

“Thank you, Lady Arachne.” Robin crossed her arms politely over her stomach, one hand on top of the other, elbows pressing gently against her side. Weeks of study with Frederick and Cordelia had prepared her for this, the names of all who approached her coming up as easily as the smile (gracious and polite) she had practiced for events such as these.

 

Lady Arachne was visibly pleased that the princess knew who she was, without the help of an attendant or without her needing to introduce herself.

 

“How is your husband, the Earl?”

 

“Doing well enough, but I suppose I should look for him now. He likely has stuffed himself full of the hors d'oeuvres.” The earl’s wife laughed, her eyes twinkling. “I do hope to have more time to talk to you this evening?”

 

“If I don’t get pulled off somewhere else.” Robin gave a diplomatic answer, neither promising nor outright rejecting. It was a position most of the royals took in everything they could, neutrality, so as not to appear to favor one over the other. The record high popularity of this particular king and his immediate family was astounding.

 

“Ah, Robin, my dear. There you are. I see that the jewelry sent to you arrived just in time.”

 

The princess turned, only very few people could call her that. She smiled warmly, genuinely, when she saw her father-in-law approach.

 

“Your Majesty.” She knew to curtsey in front of him (but only in public; Sirius insisted that they drop all formality when they were in the privacy of their own homes). “Yes, they’re beautiful. Once the queen is unoccupied, I should go to her and give her my thanks. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

 

“A family treasure,” Sirius supplied, a warm smile on his face.

 

Robin didn’t miss the meaning behind his words.

 

“I hope your head isn’t spinning from all these court protocols? I’m afraid we have my ancestors to blame for that.” Sirius laughed, apologetic, as he held out an arm for her to take.

 

“Handling it well enough. Frederick is an excellent teacher.”

 

“That he is.” The king patted her hand softly. It seemed like a small wall was built around them, no one approaching.

 

“If I may be honest, though?”

 

“Please.” He tilted his head towards her. This close to the king, Robin could see faint wrinkles, from laughing and smiling, and a few thin strands of silver hair among his golden ones.

 

“It feels weird to be curtseyed and bowed to.” Her voice was quiet as she blushed, looking a little away from her father-in-law. There were no other woman higher in rank than her, save the queen, making it just a little bit easier for her to maneuver these archaic customs. At least when it came to the curtseying. How to properly address everyone was another matter she was slowly getting used to.

 

“You’ll get used to it in time. Sofia did, so many years ago.”

 

“Ah, Father, Robin. I was wondering where you two went.” Chrom had two glasses prosecco, the aperitif of the evening, handing one to his wife who took it thankfully. “Although maybe I should have guessed when the guests suddenly parted like the Dead Sea.”

 

“Well it seems I’ve given your wife a brief respite from handling all these people on her own, but from what I’ve seen, she’s done a good job of it.”

 

Robin flushed, a small smile playing on her lips as she tried to hide her reaction. The acidity of the prosecco was welcome, the slight fizz awakening her taste buds as an aperitif should.

 

“Robin! I’m so glad the tiara arrived in time.”

 

The princess looked up, smiling as widely as she could without it being improper, as Sofia approached.

 

“Your Majesty.” Chrom bowed as Robin curtseyed, all eyes suddenly turning to the four most senior royals.

 

“Thank you for sending these to me.” Robin tilted her head slightly and touched her right hand to her ear, the smaller opal pieces glimmering.

 

“Please. When I saw your dress, I knew.” Sofia smiled, wanting to reach out and touch Robin’s shoulder but refrained.

 

“Knew what, if I may ask?”

 

Sofia looked at her husband, who simply nodded.

 

“That they should go to you. I received it in honor of Chrom’s birth.” The queen gazed fondly at her son before looking back to the stunned Robin. “I heard from my husband about the circumstances that sent you to Plegia, and how you made up with your brother. I dare say that is a joyous enough occasion, to heal the wounds of an estranged relationship?” Sofia’s deep blue eyes twinkled.

 

“I… I don’t know what to say…”

 

“You don’t have to say anything. I know growing up wasn’t easy for you and I know that settling into your role is only going to make it more difficult, but know that all of us are here with you. You didn’t just become Chrom’s wife on the day of your marriage. You joined our family and there is nothing we won’t do for any of our own.”

 

The princess swallowed back the tears, happy ones, that started to form, as she gazed at the sincere faces of her husband and parents-in-law.

 

“Thank you,” she managed to say, finally, voice quiet but somehow rang loudly in their ears.

 

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Dinner was, thankfully, served soon after. If anyone noticed the brief moment that Chrom had placed his hand on the small of his wife’s back, they wisely chose to keep quiet and turn their gaze away.

 

As was his place, Chrom seated himself to the left of his father, his mother taking the other side, and Robin seated next to him. Emmeryn and Liam had quickly joined her side, the princess beside her, with Lissa taking her place beside Sofia, everyone else quickly taking their seats that had been moved down one space with Robin’s arrival.

 

It was far from a quiet affair, filled with chatter of policy and business.

 

Not that Robin was paying any attention. She was far too absorbed with maneuvering her fork with her right hand, and the warm hand of her husband enveloping her left, hidden from prying eyes beneath the tablecloth.

 

If his father noticed, Sirius didn’t mention anything and continued his meal and quiet conversation with his wife.

 

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.

 

“We do appreciate your… kindness in the matter regarding Plegia.” The prime minister coughed, head bowed slightly, eyes downcast. He was still suffering the consequences of how that had been handled, the king obviously displeased in his manner as they conducted their weekly meetings. There were already murmurs about it, how the people had been shocked at how easily he had used the prince’s wife to do their work, even if it had been done for the benefit of all Ylisse.

 

“I trust the matter of working out all the details of Prince Grima’s official visit is being taken care of at your end?” Robin looked to the foreign secretary.

 

“Yes Ma’am. We’re just finalizing the agenda and we need to coordinate with your office as to the arrangements for his lodgings and travel to and from Thallo Palace.” His voice was more subdued this time, more deferential and less anxious. He had worked more closely with Robin upon learning of Prince Grima’s desire to visit, and had since been extremely regretful of his actions.

 

“Thank you. It’s nice to know that we can still work together, despite a rough start.” Robin smiled gently, eyes flickering to the prime minister, a proud man who had difficulty admitting he was wrong, before going back to the foreign secretary.

 

“Indeed. We need more men and women like that in government service, don’t you think? Those who recognize their faults and work on them just the same.” Chrom stood straight, smiling, danger lurking beneath his handsome face.

 

The prime minister flinched as he nodded. He had a feeling his days were numbered, already having lost his good working relationship with the king and his son, and he was unlikely to get reelected in the coming elections. His popularity had been dwindling and he was banking on his image with the royal family to boost his chances but it seemed like he needed to raise the white flag soon. Better to retire with the perception of being in the good graces of the king rather than in terrible defeat to his opponents.

 

“Well, we’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of the dinner, Sir, Ma’am.” The foreign secretary had the foresight to realize the conversation was over, and to spare his prime minister further shame, as he bowed, tugging the cuff of his colleague to do the same.

 

“Yes. I’ll see you in your next meeting with the king. We have much to discuss still about the state dinner with Prince Grima.”

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

They bowed once more, taking a few steps backwards before reaching a respectable distance to turn around. The prince watched with a neutral expression, only for it to sour when he saw who was approaching.

 

“Chrom?” Robin tilted her head upwards, fighting down the urge to reach out and touch her husband’s arm.

 

“Baron and Lady Amer.”

 

“Your Royal Highnesses.”

 

His uncle bowed and his aunt curtseyed, very distant relatives but they claimed it just the same. Their line of the family had always felt that they should have been the ones in power but respected the crown just the same. They were always difficult to deal with.

 

“Is this your wife? She looks very different in person than she does in pictures,” Lady Amer commented, doing little to hide her envious gaze of the jewels the princess wore. “Though I suppose that was my only source of information on her, pictures and articles, seeing as we weren’t invited to the wedding.”

 

Chrom coughed, trying to keep a neutral expression. There were always one of those entitled uncles and aunts, who believe themselves to be honored and revered in some way simply because of their connection to the royal family, membership limited to only his immediate family, his children-in-law, and his granddaughter. Sirius, his father, and his grandfather had been only children, and membership to the royal family shifted with the change in Sovereign. It was membership that Baron and Lady Amer had wanted but would never achieve, despite being related somehow.

 

“It was a small affair, limited to family members, a few friends, and some members of the government.” The prince tried to keep his tone cordial, they were still, after all, his uncle and aunt and they were in public.

 

“Family? Are we not considered family?” Baron Amer look shocked and visibly hurt, though the prince doubted he meant his words.

 

“ _Immediate_ family,” Chrom corrected.

 

“Well. I hope for your sake that your immediate family will grow soon.” Lady Amer’s gaze fell on the princess’ stomach, lingering before looking back at Robin’s expression: eyes wide and jaw trembling. “Are you merely delaying the announcement?”

 

“Of what, might I ask, Lady Amer?” Robin grit her teeth together, trying to stay calm.

 

“Of being pregnant of course! Why else would they rush the crown prince into marriage? The Princess Royal already has a daughter, though I do wonder when she’ll have a son herself.”

 

Robin stared at the nerve of the Amers, their hurtful insinuations.

 

“I do hope you’ll have a son in due time. After all, sons inherit the throne do they not? And isn’t that the only reason you were brought in here anyway?” The princess’ lack of reply made Lady Amer grow bold.

 

“You realize that you are talking to a member of the royal family, do you not?” Robin stood tall, back straight, her voice even despite her emotions.

 

“Who isn’t doing her job very well, or at least doesn’t seem to be,” the baron’s wife spat out. “For your sake, we hope you are in fact just not aware that you’re pregnant. If we had been consulted for the match, we would have nominated someone far more suitable to the position of future queen.”

 

“I understand you may not like, or even respect me, but at least have the decency to show respect for what I represent as wife to the crown prince,” the princess ground out, hands balling into fists.

 

The Amers merely raised their eyebrows.

 

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

 

“Now do you? It’ll be bad for the baby.”

 

It took all of her willpower not to slap both the baron and his wife. Instead, Robin turned on her heel, picking up just a bit of her skirts, as she quickly made her way out of the ballroom.

 

“You think too much of yourselves, Baron and Lady Amer. Who do you think you are anyway?” Chrom seethed, biting back the more scathing responses he would have liked to give.

 

“Your uncle and aunt of course!” The baron had the audacity to puff out his chest.

 

“Consider yourselves lucky, then, that you are precisely that, because of a common, but very distant, ancestor, and that we are in a public space.” The prince’s face turned dark, his normally bright blue eyes deepening to a blue black.

 

“Really now? After that disparaging little display of yours? For what, to merely claim blood relation and superiority over my son’s wife? I think not.”

 

“Y-your Majesty!” They rushed to bow and curtsey, frozen in fear. “W-what are you doing here?”

 

“Far be it from me to be a gracious host and greet my guests, don’t you think?”

 

The Amers nodded fearfully.

 

Sirius was kind, forgiving, and understanding but he was difficult and imposing when it came to his family.

 

“Go. Your wife needs you. I can handle things from here.”

 

Chrom bowed quickly, making his way towards the direction his wife fled.

 

“Now then. What ever shall I do with you?”

 

The baron and his wife shrank back.

 

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“Your Royal Highness. What seems to be the problem?” Lon’qu pushed himself off of the wall as he watched Robin bowled over, trying to catch her breath. There was no need for him to be inside, security there more than sufficient. Ever the dutiful bodyguard, he came along, in case the princess decided to go out for some fresh air.

 

“Take me home.”

 

Lon’qu blinked and didn’t move, wondering if he heard her correctly.

 

“Take me home.” Her voice was shaky.

 

“What about the pri—”

 

“I said take me home, Lon’qu!” Robin shouted, uncaring if anyone heard or saw this break in propriety. “Just… take me home.”

 

“Yes Ma’am.” Lon’qu nodded, brow creased but obedient.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS I’M SORRY FOR CUTTING IT OFF THERE orz I had like, four more scenes planned but if I kept it in this chapter, it’d make it super long and unwieldy for me, and I kind of felt it’d be a good place to end. BUT I PROMISE THE WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE WORTH IT (I hope? I think, lmao)
> 
> By this time, it’s early July and Robin and Chrom have been married for about two and a half months. I’m not exactly sure how much of a slow burn this is (because honestly it kind of feels that way because eight chapters in I’ve only written about 2.5 months of their married life xD) but it is, in a weird way.
> 
> This is [Emmeryn’s tiara](http://www.thejewelleryeditor.com/shop/product/bentley-skinner-late-victorian-american-scroll-diamond-tiara/) and this is [Robin’s](https://cdn7.bigcommerce.com/s-3uzu2uc9bk/images/stencil/500x659/products/3871/14585/HTB1AjmfSpXXXXbwXpXXq6xXFXXXj__86885.1513733253.jpg?c=2)! Hopefully I was able to do them both justice describing them, because these are gorgeous. As for Robin’s wedding tiara, I didn’t actually have an image in mind when I decided for her to have that so just imagine something like [this](https://www.ebay.com/p/Lovely-Angle-Wing-Crown-Use-Czech-Crystal-18k-White-Gold-plated-Brooch-Pin-6-5cm/1346991053) but bigger (like the Cambridge Lover’s Knot tiara or the Lotus Flower tiara; that the wings basically go from one temple to the other), made with white gold, and full of diamonds. And the tea Robin is drinking in that scene is based off Genmaicha. It’s my favorite tea and has a mild, roasted, popped rice kind of flavor!
> 
> The title of Chrom’s distant uncle and aunt is Amer, which according to Google translate means bitter/ resentful in French. I doubt I’ll use them again in the future but I did want to give them an appropriate title, lol, given their feelings about the throne, which honestly they think they’re entitled to somehow but definitely aren’t, given how far they are down the line of succession (so far they’re not even listed), which is why they’re bitter lol
> 
> As usual, your kudos and comments are my lifeblood <3


	9. When the World is Through I Will Still Love You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize for getting this out later than planned. I was planning to write a lot of this after I posted IaM chapter 20 but life stuff happened, lots of doctor check-ups for my congestion problems, and still some ongoing now because it turns out I have a deviated septum :’D Therefore surgery. It’s a simple matter but you can imagine a lot to deal with. And the need to be an adult and find a job already orz So life stuff, me being generally exhausted afterwards, and playing Octopath Traveler have gotten in the way of me writing. BUT here I am with the next chapter, which will hopefully more than make up for how chapter 8 ended.
> 
> As you all may recall this story is rated E /whistles
> 
> Let's see if anyone can spot the easter egg I left in this chapter :D
> 
> The title is a line from Still by 98 Degrees (Man I am showing my age with the lyric-song choice for this and chapter 8 xD)

The silence was suffocating. Despite Lon’qu being more than comfortable without any small talk, this was different. His dark eyes flicked upwards to the rearview mirror briefly, gazing at Robin. Her elbow was propped up by the window, chin against her palm, fingers bent and tense. Her other hand was balled into a fist, shaking, nails likely digging so deeply into her palm that it was possible she drew blood.

 

She amazed herself that she managed to somehow keep it together, a single tear rolling down on her cheek, smudging her mascara and liner a little. She barely remembered if she bade Lon’qu good night (even though she was sure she did). She felt his eyes on her the entire time, watching quietly from the moment he helped her out of the car to the last fleeting glance of her skirts when she ascended the stairs. It almost felt like she was in a trance, moving only because she knew where to go.

 

It was like an out of body experience, that she could somehow see herself remove the delicate jewelry Sofia had given her, placing them back in their case and in the hidden vault in her room. She managed to unzip herself out of her dress and slid off her heels, setting them down in a place easy to see and that wouldn’t wrinkle the gown any more than it already was. All while tears were brimming but held back by sheer force of will, hair tumbling down as she pulled off the pins and placed them by the faucet of their bathroom’s sink. Quickly, she stripped herself of everything, thrown her undergarments in the hamper, cleaned off her makeup, and waited for the tub to fill.

 

The minute she sank into the hot water, Robin finally broke down in tears, sobs wracking her entire body as she leaned forward, burying her face in her hands.

 

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Chrom was in a panic when he arrived at their apartment, stressed and anxious. The drive had seemed impossibly long, the slight traffic jam on the way to Thallo Palace grating at his nerves. Even just leaving Ylisstol Castle had been difficult, stopping to greet everyone who had spoken to him first. Brushing them aside wouldn’t do him, them, any favors, no matter how much he wanted to run after his wife and be by her side.

 

“Robin?” He was breathless, tired, jumping out of the car and running inside. The servants by the entrance were surprised to see the prince in such a state, but also half expected it.

 

“Upstairs, Sir. She didn’t look like herself. Tired. I daresay she went to bed, but I can’t be certain. The princess didn’t call for anyone to assist her out of her eveningwear.” One of the stewards fidgeted, voice a little small but still hoping he was of some help.

 

Chrom didn’t even spare a backward glance as he rushed up to their bedroom, heart pounding against his rib cage.

 

It managed to slow just a touch when he arrived at their door, bent over as he tried to catch his breath, splashing sounds coming from their bathroom. She was home and she was safe, not that he didn’t trust Lon’qu but he needed to see her, needed to tell her that his aunt and his uncle had no right to insinuate anything.

 

“Robin?” Chrom pulled the door wide open, steam and hot air rushing out. He was about to step inside when his eyes caught hers, Robin clutching the handlebar, towel in her other hand but barely covering anything.

 

His wife screamed, covering herself with the towel and grabbing the (thankfully empty) soap dish beside her and throwing it at Chrom’s face.

 

“Sorry, sorry! I was worried!” He yelled back, turning around but not quickly enough, the dish managing to hit the side of his face. There’d be a bruise tomorrow, and dull aching throughout the day, but a fair price to pay for walking in on Robin naked.

 

“Out! Out!” The blonde stomped over, shutting the door, muttering all the while that he should have some decency and wait outside. Her earlier hurt was forgotten, for now, face and ears bright red, as she gathered her things and tried to make herself presentable. Tried.

 

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“Um.”

 

Chrom’s head snapped up. He didn’t even notice Robin stepping out of the bathroom, barefoot and covered in a fluffy bathroom, tied up tightly around the waist, hair still damp but not dripping. Her hands were toying with the ends of the belt, nervous.

 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you with the soap dish.” Robin bit her lower lip as she knelt down in front of her husband, reaching out to cup his cheek gingerly. Chrom winced but covered her hand with his own. There’d be a bruise tomorrow, but nothing his sometimes absentmindedness wouldn’t explain away.

 

“No, I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t mean to barge into the bathroom like that.” He sighed, smiling softly, affectionately. “I was just worried. I wasn’t thinking.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Robin didn’t know what else to say.

  
“C’mere.” He dropped his hand from hers, stretching his arms, letting his fingers slide upwards to her upper arms.

 

“Huh?” The blonde looked up, head tilted slightly.

 

“C’mere,” he repeated, tugging her towards him. Robin tumbled just a little, finding herself pressed against his chest before slowly being adjusted to sit on his lap, her knees pressed just outside his hips on top of upholstery of their chaise.

 

“You didn’t deserve that.” He leaned his forehead against the hollow of her neck, his breath hot against her skin. Robin barely managed to suppress a shudder as his hands steadied themselves on her hips. “I’d like to say you’ll never have to hear that topic again but it comes with the territory, of being the wife of the crown prince.”

 

“I know.” Her fingers carded through his hair, gently untangling any knots. “And I’m prepared for it. I just… didn’t expect so much hostility.”

 

Chrom looked up. He saw worry, fear, anxiety, but beneath it all he saw trust.

 

“I… I just don’t want kids now.” Her cheeks reddened as she bit her lower lip, scared to admit what she just did but brave to do so. “D-don’t get me wro—mmff!”

 

He leaned up, cutting her off with a kiss. Robin struggled a little, more out of surprise, before sinking down further into his lap and settling against him.

 

“It’s okay.” Their foreheads touched, the moment intimate and quiet, where they touched slowly starting to heat up.

 

“It’s not that I don’t ever want kids, I do, I really do,” Robin reasoned, her voice quiet like she was asking for forgiveness. His. “I… I just need some time.”

 

“I know. It’s okay.” His thumbs brushed the soft spot just above where her hip bones jutted out, the princess instinctively pressing herself closer to him, the base of their bellies almost touching. The heady scent of Robin was intoxicating. Coupled with how vulnerable and open she was being with him, it was impossible not for Chrom to start getting aroused and somewhere in the back of his mind, he was hoping and praying she wouldn’t panic and run away.

 

“I want to be the mother of your children, Chrom,” she repeated, quiet but sure.

 

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to be.” He kissed her again, slow and sweet, his tongue darting out tentatively against the seam of her lips. He felt her still and he almost pulled away, but she quickly kissed him back in earnest, opening her mouth and letting him deepen their kiss.

 

They pulled apart unwillingly, their lips barely a couple of inches away from each other as they took in deep breaths. Their eyes were half lidded, glazed over with affection, but he could still see the worry in the cinnamon brown depths he found endlessly fascinating.

 

“Chrom… I… I just don’t think I’m ready to be a mother yet,” she murmured quietly. “I’m still just figuring this all out. You and me. This thing between us. It’s… it’s a lot, you know. First you’re just a normal citizen, then the next thing you know it you’re married to the next in line to the throne. It’s not easy.”

 

“What can I do to make it better?” he breathed out, pushing her against him even more with one hand, hardly any space between them, tilting his head as he traced her jaw with feather light kisses. “I’m alright with waiting to have children. To be honest, I feel the same way.”

 

Robin pushed him away, eyes wide at his sudden confession, but made no motion to stand up and leave her husband.

 

“What?”

 

“I want kids. Of course I want kids, even if I weren’t expected to have any, but I don’t feel like sharing.”

 

“Sharing what?”

 

“You.” He leaned forward to steal a quick kiss before sitting back and gazing at his wife fondly. “I don’t want to share you just yet. Not when we’ve just started figuring this all out. Not when you’re finally, finally, _finally_ falling in love with me.” He shot her a cheeky grin.

 

Robin swallowed thickly, silent and unmoving, unable to say anything in response. It was true, after all, that she was in love with him, even if she hadn’t quite admitted that to her husband. Not exactly anyway. Chrom took it as a sign to continue.

 

“Our marriage was arranged. We didn’t have time to learn too much about each other, but even so I thank Naga every day that we’re growing closer and closer, dare I even say that we’re falling in love just a little bit more?” He held her gaze, hope in his eyes. A boyish grin broke out on his face when Robin nodded, her heart leaping at the sight of it.

 

“Chrom…” Robin reached out and brushed his bangs away from his forehead, nails grazing his skin lightly.

 

“Robin, we’ll have children when we want to have them. Not because the government tells us we should, or some meddling and nosy aunt and uncle stuck in the dark ages who think that you make for a terrible wife because you’re not pregnant yet, okay?”

 

The princess nodded, rubbing the tears away with the back of her hand. How she got to marry a kind, gentle, and loving man she never met before the day their marriage had been arranged, she’d never know, but she thanked Naga every day that her lot in life turned out this way.

 

“They’ll come one day, our children. I expect we’ll have our own little prince and princess who’ll have us wrapped around their tiny little fingers but I don’t think they’re racing to us just yet.”

 

“Two? You think we’ll only have two kids and a boy and a girl at that?” Robin couldn’t resist a laugh, not with how smug and confident her husband was with his prediction.

 

“The Crown Prince of Ylisse decrees it so!” He pulled her in close. As he did, Robin shifted, slotting her lips against his, rolling her hips unconsciously, her sex brushing against his half hard erection. Chrom groaned in response, almost pained.

 

“Chrom?”

 

The prince took in a deep breath, clamping his eyes shut as he tried to will away his arousal, but it was proving very difficult. If Robin had no idea what she was doing to him, he could only begin to imagine how she’d actually be if she meant every little movement, all sly and coquettish and absolutely in control.

 

“Ah. You’re going to have to get off of me.” He looked away, trying not to stare at her skin, only just realizing her robe was starting to slip off, barely hanging onto her shoulder. Any more and it would open, revealing her to him.

 

“Why?”

 

“Um. Well.” He turned to look back at her, first her face, then towards the valley of her breasts, then back to her face.

 

“Oh.”

 

Robin didn’t move.

 

“If you don’t want this… I do, but if you don’t want this… Robin you’ll have to get off of me. I don’t think I can hold myself back much longer,” he pleaded, torn between his desire for her and wanting to respect the fact that she wasn’t ready, but she was making it very difficult for him to move away, not with how her knees suddenly pressed even deeper against him.

 

Wordlessly, she picked up one of his hands and kissed the center of his palm. It felt like a ritual prayer as her lips, her plush, feather soft lips moved over each fingertip, tongue darting out ever so slightly, tip dragging just a bit before moving to the next, before she lay his hand to cup her breast. Leaning forward, Robin kissed him, guiding his other hand to wrap firmly around her, as she ground her hips against him.

 

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Robin’s back landed against their, thankfully, cushioned headboard with a soft thud, eyes closed, hands holding her husband’s face. How they managed to move from their chaise lounge to their bed, most of his clothes, his shoes, and her robe somewhere on the floor. It was amazing how her mind could be so clear yet so foggy at the same time, her back arching in response to his knee pushing her legs open as she yielded easily. Willingly.

 

It was almost a shock to her when he pulled his head back, but pressed himself up against her, their foreheads touching as they panted heavily. She could see the desire in his dark, stormy half-lidded eyes and wondered if that’s what he could see in her eyes. The slight tilt in his lips made her blush even more as their breathing started to settle.

 

“You okay?”

 

She felt him move, one hand pressing firmly into the mattress for balance, as he tucked her hair behind her ear. If it was even remotely possible for her to turn any redder than she already was, she was sure it just happened.

 

“We can still stop if you’re uncomfortable.”

 

He kissed her gently before pulling away again.

 

“I…” She stared at him and saw the struggle in his eyes, his want of her but his desire to respect her limits as well. “I… I want to.”

 

“You sure? You’re absolu—”

 

It was her turn to cut him off with a kiss, leaning up and into him, arms snaking around his neck as she lifted herself slightly. He groaned into the kiss, his free hand sliding down along her spine and resting against the small of her back, hardly any space between them. She gasped, when she felt his hard length on her stomach, as he slid her down, her husband crawling and towering on top of her, caging her shoulders with his arms and her hips with his knees.

 

He pulled her up, setting her down on his lap while he knelt back, sinking into the mattress as he sat down on his heels, toes curled for stability, one arm still wrapped around her waist. She felt like she was on cloud nine, too absorbed in their kiss to pay any attention to what his other hand was doing, fingers threading through her hair before moving downwards, his touch light as a feather. She could feel the fire form in the wake of his touch, skin burning as her head tilted back, hair falling like a waterfall, when Chrom’s lips left hers to trail down along the delicate column of her neck.

 

Her eyes shot open when she finally felt the calloused skin of his fingers brush against the base of her belly then go down lower and lower until.

 

“Chrom!”

 

“Too much?” He leaned his head against her shoulder, eyes twinkling, as he looked up, fingers hovering over her clit. “Let me. You’ll enjoy it. I’ll stop if it’s too much.” His words sunk into her skin as he kissed the curve of her shoulder, gently moving his hand down until it was spread against the small space between her legs, almost touching but not quite. He stayed still while he waited for her to make up her mind, watching her carefully out of one eye.

 

If this was how far they would get tonight, he’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t be disappointed, but he’d go along at her pace. This was the furthest they’ve gotten in the two, almost three months they’d been married and he was perfectly happy to take whatever she’d give him. But it seemed he didn’t have to wait too much longer, not when Robin let herself go a little and lowered herself. He bit back a groan at the sensation of her sex on his hand, his fingers itching to move against her, in her, teasing her. She was warm and wet and ready for him, his cock twitching slightly in anticipation.

 

He had enough of his senses to shift them around, until it was his back pressing on their headboard, her legs being coaxed further and further open as he dipped one finger inside of her, then two soon after, scissoring inside her and gently stretching her open. Robin’s hands moved to clutch at the fabric behind him, her head dipping down and her hair falling all around them, hips bucking against his hand as the pressure in her belly started to build and build and build until suddenly his hand was gone, brushing against nothing but air. She couldn’t even close her legs for some friction, even if she wanted to, not with Chrom’s legs between hers and keeping them apart.

 

“Chrom!” Robin almost winced at how whiny she sounded, but that was unfair of him, pulling away just before she could orgasm.

 

“Together.” His voice was deep and husky as he coaxed her down with his clean hand, bringing the one that had just been inside her close to his mouth.

 

“What… are you doing?”

 

“Cleaning.”

 

His matter of fact tone was slightly alarming. Sure she was a virgin and wasn’t used to all this but she never thought that anyone would ever clean their hand that way. She’d always just assumed that they’d wipe it off somehow but seeing her husband lick the wetness from his hand, eyes half closed in concentration, was a strange sight but she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away.

 

“Fuck you. You did that on purpose!” Robin hissed, embarrassed but not at all angry.

 

“Language, love, language.” Chrom laughed, wiping his saliva on the sheets before resting both his hands on her hips, pulling her close to him. “But isn’t that what you’re doing?”

 

“Ugh. I hate you.” Her hands moved to his shoulders to steady herself, eyes warm and mischievous and affectionate despite her words, kneeling over him.

 

“Mmm,” he laughed again, arms still and unmoving but his hands traveling upwards as she started to sink down on him. His thumbs were just under her breasts when she stopped moving, the tip of his cock brushing against her entrance.

 

“I… I’ve… I’ve never…” she stammered, looking away, suddenly all her bravado leaving her.

 

Wordlessly, Chrom pushed her down on the bed, her hair splayed around like a halo of white gold, all glowing and bright in the darkness. He smiled gently, cupping her cheek and brushing his thumb under her eyes before moving away, Robin suddenly feeling a little more than empty with her husband pulling back.

 

“W-what?” Robin blinked, propping herself up on her elbows as she watched her husband move to one of the drawers. “Chrom?”

 

“Condom. You said you don’t want children yet.” He waved the foil square, the crinkling sound strangely loud and audible.

 

“And you happened to have some stocked?” Robin raised an eyebrow, a little bit of that sensual mood waning but her heart was still warm with affection just the same.

 

He laughed, crawling up to her but not quite reaching her. Quietly, he tore open the package and rolled down the condom, tossing the foil down on the floor before finally caging his wife in his arms once more, Robin patient and waiting all the while. The head of his cock pressed lightly against her slit as he looked up, asking for permission before he did anything.

 

Robin bit her lip as she nodded, bracing herself, mostly for the pain. She’d never done this before, after all, and she only heard stories about losing one’s virginity. And even then not much really, stories mostly coming from hushed, excited whispers from girls at school, girls who she was never close to and always looked at her funnily, or with jealous and angry gazes because their boyfriends were staring at her. Not that she wanted the attention anyway.

 

“Breathe, love,” Chrom chided gently, their sweat slicked skin heating up more and more as he inched his hips forward. “Breathe.”

 

Robin inhaled deeply as she reached out her arms, fingers threading through his slightly matted hair, watching him, feeling him, finally shift himself close enough that his cock lined up perfectly with her sex.

 

Almost breathlessly, Chrom finally pushed himself inside of her, slowly, attentive to every single expression she made. Instinctively, her legs opened wider and wider, letting him go closer as he pushed himself deeper inside. She bit her lower lip at the pain, not quite as bad as she thought it would be but certainly not comfortable, the burn just a little bit much that tears started to form at the corner of her eyes.

 

“Robin… you’re… Does it hurt?”

 

“A little, but I’m fine. Just give me a moment.” She smiled shakily, eyes managing to open just a little as she reached her arms out expectantly. “Kiss me? It’ll help with the pain.”

 

Chrom obliged, bending down to meet her, all while still pushing himself in. When he couldn’t move in anymore, he pulled away, kissing her gently on the forehead.

 

“That distracted you enough.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Chrom rolled his hips slightly in response, Robin gasping at the sudden fullness she felt.

 

“I’m going to move now okay?”

 

She nodded, still a little scared.

 

“If it hurts I’ll stop okay? I don’t ever want to hurt you, Robin. I know we’ve gotten this far but if you—”

 

Robin swiveled her hips just a little, clenching the muscles of her pelvic floor just so. Even pinned underneath her husband, she knew there was still something she could do.

 

“Just shut up and fuck me already.” She threw her hesitation out the window, giving herself up to her husband and letting go completely. She didn’t just like the man, after all. She loved him.

 

Chrom’s eyes widened briefly, surprise at first then amusement. His wife really had a mouth and, not surprisingly, he liked this side of her, a bit of a spitfire, forward, knowing exactly what she wanted. When he finally moved, her back arched off the bend and up against him, their bodies starting to shudder in shared pleasure that was going to crescendo into something loud and searing and breathtaking, stars everywhere, their marriage finally consummated in full.

 

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Robin curled into her husband, eyes looking down. She had been awake for the past few minutes, cheeks red and warm, everything that happened last night playing in her head in an endless loop. She didn’t expect her first time, with anyone really, to be like that but despite how it started, she didn’t think she’d change it for the world. Her husband had been warm and tender and funny, attentive to her needs, trying to make everything as painless for her as he could. And now, here they were in bed, legs tangled together under the sheets, with nary a thing between them.

 

Quietly and carefully, she peeled herself off of him, shoulder aching just a little. Embarrassment didn’t even register when she felt the thin summer sheets fall away from her, the faint draft from their air conditioner cool her still too warm (but pleasantly so) bare skin. Her eyes fell on her husband, first his bare chest, then gaze traveling southwards to the rest of his body, cheeks darkening faintly as she reached out to brush his bangs away from his eyes. Robin didn’t pull away or stop combing her fingers through his hair when Chrom stirred, far too interested and fascinated at this new light she saw her husband in.

 

“Morning,” Chrom rasped out, wrapping a hand around her wrist.

 

“Good morning.” She leaned back a little on her other hand, pressing it into a soft pillow, her half of the sheet pooling around her waist, the beginnings of the morning’s sunlight streaming through the windows and landing on her, skin aglow with something unusual but beautiful just the same.

 

“It’s still early.” The prince brought her hand to his mouth, kissing her palm gently but lifting his eyes to meet hers.

 

“It was a little cold.” Robin smiled sheepishly. The cool draft tickled her skin, despite the warmth of his body, goosebumps running along her exposed skin.

 

“Was it now?” His voice was still thick with sleep, but he had enough of his senses about him to think of a solution for that. “I think I know what’ll help.”

 

“You do?” Her voice sounded amused, as she looked down at her husband, his face alight with a boyish grin.

 

“Mmm.” He pulled her back down, moving Robin around until he was spooning her from behind, chin resting on her shoulder. “Better?”

 

“Almost.”

 

“How can I make it better?” He pressed his lips on the curve of her shoulder, leaving feather light kisses as he moved towards the hollow then back to the tip, following the freckling on her skin.

 

She shivered.

 

“If you weren’t half-hard between my legs and almost raring to go for another round it’d be better.” Robin laughed, shaking away the pleasant thrum of electricity and heat pooling in her belly. “Chrom I’m too lazy to stand up and get a condom and so are you.”

 

The prince chuckled, amused at how easily Robin was acting more forwardly. He didn’t realize how much of a vixen his wife was, but probably neither did she.

 

“Maybe you should start birth control.” He continued tracing her shoulder with open mouthed kisses, tongue darting occasionally to swipe at the thin film of sweat still on her body.

 

“What?” Robin blinked, turning her head to face him.

 

“Just because kids are for the future doesn’t mean sleepy morning sex has to be.” He grinned mischievously, eyes alight.

 

“Pervert.” Robin laughed, shaking her head as she turned back around, eyes closing as she felt the warm laugh of her husband on her skin, affection blooming from deep inside her heart.

 

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Chrom’s brow creased at the sudden emptiness in his arms, sunlight in full force outside. It was a lazy day, as was often the case after state functions in the evening, and they didn’t have anywhere to be. He wasn’t supposed to be alone in bed, not with the night they shared and the moments of intimacy a few hours earlier, but Robin’s side of the bed was still warm and the sound of the shower running was loud in the morning quiet. Yawning, he pulled a sheet and tied it around his waist, one eye cracked open as he made his way to their bathroom.

 

This time he knocked, loud enough to hear over the running water, waiting patiently outside the door for her to answer.

 

Robin opened the door, looking a little sheepish, hair wet and stuck in various places, holding up her towel that only covered the front of her body, the curve of her backside peeking out just so.

 

“So that’s where you went.” Chrom pulled her flush against him, Robin yelping slightly, hand dropping from her towel but the plush terry cloth staying still pressed between them.

 

“I needed to shower.” Her tone was matter of fact as she looked upwards, eyes twinkling. She liked this new dynamic, more honest and open and playful.

 

“I see.”

 

Her hands slid down from his chest to his waist, toying with the fabric there, before turning around and pulling it along, catching his hand when she dropped the sheets.

 

“Close the door and get my towel please?” She turned to look at her husband, a half-smile on her face. “Join me?”

 

“Forward aren’t we?” Chrom chuckled, following her instructions.

 

Quietly, she dragged him into the shower, closing the glass door and pressing her back against it. Despite the large space, it felt crowded, especially with how her husband was towering over her, an amused look in his eyes.

 

“No shower sex you big dummy,” she mumbled, wrapping her arms around his torso as she breathed her words into his skin.

 

He moved her back, walking until they were right under the shower head, her back against the cool tiles this time, her head tilted, the crown of it against the wall. He dipped his head down to kiss her with a silent yes, one hand in the space beside her head, the other reaching blindly for the handles. They stayed like that under the hot spray, muscles warming and relaxing, water dripping down and their bodies moving against each other, the friction simultaneously frustrating and sweet.

 

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Breakfast was a relatively quiet and sedate affair, Chrom behaved enough to keep his hands to himself all throughout, Robin shooting daggers at him. Much as she enjoyed their newfound intimacy, she was still hungry and greatly appreciated the food and the discretion of the servants who had come up. One of the older maids had this knowing look in her eyes that only made the princess blush and look away. She couldn’t blame them for being excited. It had been a while since the last royal birth and if this was any indication…

 

“Robin?”

 

“Huh?”

 

She blinked, watching her husband shake a hand in front of her face.

 

“Thought I lost you for a minute there.” He picked up another scone, breaking it in half before spreading a generous serving of clotted cream and jam. “What were you thinking about.”

 

“Nothing,” she lied, taking a sip of her tea to cover her face. At least she could blame the steam for the redness of her cheeks.

 

He raised his brow in response, dubious.

 

“Really, it’s nothing. I’m fine. Don’t you worry your pretty little head off.” She set down the teacup on the saucer, smiling brightly to try and appease her husband. They already discussed it, children for the future, the two of them for now, but it all seemed so surreal.

 

“I have a pretty head?” Chrom teased, standing up to move to his wife.

 

“I always thought so.” Robin smiled, looking up at him.

 

“Just the right size?”

 

“Could be a little smaller. I could always knock you down a peg or two to make that happen.” She grinned, tone light and lilting.

 

Without any preamble, he lifted her up into his arms, carrying her princess style, his wife shrieking and laughing at the same time.

 

“Put me down! I still want to eat my breakfast,” she yelped, head falling back as she laughed, tears pricking the corner of her eyes.

 

He dropped her rather unceremoniously on their bed, the hem of her dress hiking up slightly as he knelt beside her.

 

“Why are you okay with it?” she suddenly asked, emotions seizing her. Her eyes searched his for any sign of anger or regret. There wasn’t any. The only thing she could see was the softness in his gaze.

 

“With what?”

 

“Not having kids yet.”

 

He could hear the anxiety in her voice.

 

“This again?”

 

“Chrom.”

 

“Robin.”

 

“Please.”

 

Chrom sighed, a little exasperated but in an affectionate way.

 

“I know you told me last night, but it seems too good to be true.” She bit her lower lip, but managed to keep her gaze level with his.

 

“Believe it or not, I have never been in a rush to have children of my own either.” He kissed the top of her head in reassurance.

 

“Really now?” Robin reached up to cup his face, her thumbs running over the space just beneath his eyes.

 

“And, like I told you last night, and I’ll never tire of reminding you of this fact, it seems I’m selfish with anything to do with my wife.” He leaned into one of her palms, sighing. “I want her all to myself.”

 

“That doesn’t sound like very good manners.”

 

“What can I say. She’s too precious.” He leaned forward, kissing the hollow of her neck.

 

Robin laughed, back arching towards him as she squirmed, ticklish, Chrom taking the opportunity to push up her dress over her head, throwing it haphazardly somewhere on the floor. He kissed the tip of her nose before reaching out to the side table, pulling out another condom from the box.

 

“You see to have a lot of those.” The blonde eyed her husband with a slight huff, crossing her arms over her chest but doing absolutely nothing to hide them. In fact, she had placed her arms just under her bust, pushing it up slightly in the process.

 

“I had a feeling these’d come in handy. Never knew when it would happen so I thought it best to be prepared.” He grinned, that shit-eating kind that actually looked perfect on his face, much to Robin’s chagrin.

 

“Boy scout,” she teased, running her fingers through his hair before dragging him back up to kiss her.

 

He pushed apart her legs with his knee, Robin pliant beneath him, as he settled in the space between her thighs, dropping the foil square down on the mattress. He’d find it later. For now, there were other more important matters to attend to.

 

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They spent the rest of the day huddled under the sheets, mostly clothed this time, but stuck to each other, hardly any space between them. The thin summer sheets are pulled up to their chests, both of them curled on their side facing each other, their free hands intertwined as they talked in hushed voices, like any louder they’d break the spell hovering in their room. It was like they were teenagers all over again, like they’d both just confessed their feelings to each other and they were giddy with happiness and excitement, laughing and smiling the entire time. They talked of the future, the present, and the past, getting to know each other more in one day than they’d ever spent previously.

 

“Chrom?”

 

“Hm?”

 

The prince brought their joined hands to his lips, turning it slightly and kissing the space between each of her knuckles.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“For what?”

 

He kissed the tips of her fingers this time, eyes playful but attentive.

 

“For being there. For making sure I wasn’t alone. For being understanding.”

 

Robin swallowed the lump in her throat before continuing.

 

“For being you.”

 

Chrom smiled gently, leaning towards his wife and kissing her softly on her forehead, trailing his kisses down until their lips met sweetly.

 

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Robin was seated by her vanity, hair pulled up in a casual ponytail as she clipped her earrings into place, the pink Valmese pearl drop earrings that were quickly becoming her favorite for low key outings. She insisted they go out, somewhere easily accessible but known for their discretion. Just because they were royals didn’t mean that she didn’t have the urge to go out and act like civilians, and just because today was a rare day off didn’t mean she wanted to stay locked up in their room all day long.

 

“You ready?”

 

Chrom looked equally dressed down, dark wash jeans, rubber soled leather shoes, a white button down with the sleeves rolled up. His hand was outstretched for his wife to take.

 

“Where are we going?” She took his hand gratefully, similarly dressed with her heather gray cotton twill pants, lavender short sleeved blouse that was half tucked in, and beige suede flats.

 

“There’s this charming bookstore café that Emm used to go to. It was near the hospital Liam was doing his residency in so it made for a good meeting spot. It’s a family place, and most of the people who go there keep to themselves.” The prince smiled, squeezing Robin’s hand gently before leading her to the door.

 

“A place after my own heart.”

 

Just as they were about to exit, someone knocked loudly.

 

“Sir, Ma’am? I do apologize for intruding on your privacy but a missive arrived from Ylisstol Castle.”

 

Robin looked at her husband curiously.

 

He shrugged and reluctantly let go of his wife’s hand, straightening himself slightly before opening the door.

 

“Yes, Louis?”

 

Their head steward bowed before handing him an envelope.

 

“I was told it was a private matter and to bring it to you directly.”

 

The prince eyed the linen cardstock. The embossed coat of arms on the front, coupled with wax seal on the flap, was enough to tell him who sent it. Amer.

 

“Thank you, Louis.” The prince smiled lightly, dismissing their head steward with a nod. “Could you please have a car prepared? The princess and I will be going out to dinner. I will drive but security can follow us, discreetly.”

 

“Yes Sir.”

 

With a full bow this time, Louis made his way back downstairs to fulfill the prince’s instructions.

 

“From the Amers.”

 

Chrom waved the envelope in front of Robin’s face, her expression a little downcast at the name of the sender.

 

“We don’t have to read it if you don’t want to. I doubt they expect a reply from this anyway.”

 

“We should.” Robin shook her head and reached out for the letter. It was thin. They probably didn’t have much to say and were likely made to send this. Despite having it in her hands, the princess only stared at it.

 

“Let me.”

 

Chrom opened the letter without any fanfare, pulling out a single sheet of paper. He recognized his aunt’s ridiculously stylized handwriting, with all its needless flourishes that made it impractical for use except perhaps decoration.

 

“Your Royal Highnesses. It is unfortunate that our first meeting was not pleasant. We would also like to inform you that we will be far too busy for the foreseeable future to meet with you any time soon but know that we are always ever in your service. Your beloved uncle and aunt.”

 

The prince coughed. Leave it to his aunt and uncle to write an apology letter but not actually admit to any of their errors and say sorry.

 

“Come on, love. I think going out will do you some good.” He took her hand once more and started to walk out the door. He’d have Louis burn the letter, trusting in their head steward’s respect for their privacy. There was no need for Robin to see it again, and it wasn’t like the Amers were expecting a response to begin with, even if they ended their message with an open invitation for them to be consulted with at any point in time.

 

“Okay.” Robin smiled weakly, letting herself be dragged along by her husband.

 

She knew she had to grow thicker skin, to be neutral and unfazed despite what could potentially be said about her, but she was allowed to feel hurt. She always had to take the higher ground but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be vulnerable and frustrated in the privacy of their own home, to weep in the arms of her husband and let everything out when she could. Their encounter with the Baron and Lady Amer last night had shown her that there was more growing she needed to do, but it also showed her how caring and tender her husband was with her, and how much he loved her.

 

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Dinner was quiet and quaint, the pair of them seated in the second storey alcove that had a lovely view of the bustling street below. Robin’s smile was back, genuine and sweet, her laughter soft and melodious, a pot of hot, sweetened tea between them and an array of light, bite sized cakes beside it. On the other side were a few books that caught her eye. It was a satisfying end to a day where she had been showered with love and affection, one hand resting on top of her husband’s as she leaned forward to brush away his bangs with the other.

 

“You need a haircut I think. Your bangs are getting too long,” Robin commented, settling back into her seat. “I can neaten it up when we get home.”

 

“You can cut hair too?” Chrom raised a brow, amused. “Now where did you learn how to do that?”

 

“I trim my own hair, thank you very much! I don’t do much styling but I do trim the ends and my bangs a little in between visits to the stylist.” The princess pulled her ponytail to one side, rubbing the ends of it between her fingers. “Saves me time and a little bit of money.”

 

“Well then, I leave my hair in your very capable hands.”

 

Chrom grinned, running a hand through his hair to make a point.

 

All Robin could do was laugh.

 

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Robin cleared her throat, smoothing down the wrinkles on her pants before standing up tall. While she enjoyed the respite of yesterday, it was time to go back to work, and she had a meeting scheduled with Tristan and Gareth soon. While most of the other members of the royal family weren’t particularly hands on with the charities they were patron of, there was nothing else on her plate. This wouldn’t last forever and she at least wanted to get as much experience as she wanted to, and Sirius encouraged her to be as involved as she could be. There would come a time when her schedule would be so full and she’d be forced to take a step back.

 

Her outfit was a little trendier than she normally picked, but something about it drew her in. It was a tailored suit that fell straight, the fabric an interestingly colored tartan: a deep violet, heather gray, and fuchsia, softened just enough by a white chiffon blouse, the neck bow knotted loosely like a men’s tie. She paired it with a sensible set of black suede round toe pumps, her hair down in voluminous beachy waves, makeup simple but her sheer gloss a light plum color.

 

At the sound of footsteps behind her, Robin turned around, arms spread out.

 

“Well?”

 

“You should really be asking Cherche or Cordelia about this, not me. I’ll always say you look great.” Chrom laughed, brushing her hair back just a little.

 

“I’m fishing for compliments okay?” Robin smiled, eyes twinkling, head tilting backwards just a touch to look up at her husband’s face.

 

“You look great,” he reassured, leaning forward to kiss her at her hairline. “What’s the meeting about?”

 

“Tristan and Gareth are presenting the curricula they developed for a two month module, for both the children’s group and the teenagers’ group. They wanted input on selecting age appropriate books and screening qualified volunteers.”

 

Chrom hummed, stepping back to regard his wife. She looked much happier now, fulfilled in the knowledge she was doing something to help.

  
“Well, I best be going.” Robin smiled again, reaching out to touch her husband’s cheek. Growing bold, she continued. “Have a good day, love.”

 

His eyes widened. This was the first time she ever called him that and his heart warmed at how naturally it came to her, how she didn’t stutter or stammer. There was only a flush of warmth on her cheeks, and a knowing smile on her face that she meant it. She loved him just like he loved her.

 

“You too, love.” Chrom pulled her close and stole another kiss, taking Robin by surprise. She settled easily into his arms, her hands resting on his chest for support. It was chaste and sweet and proper, but they lingered, eyes closing with satisfaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robin is just shy because this is her first time but just you wait Chrom, JUST YOU WAIT and next time it’ll be you dying of embarrassment!!!
> 
> A lot of ~feelings~ in this chapter and I hope I did it justice! That was the other reason why it took so long to get this out because I wasn’t happy with how I wrote a few sections so I ended up having to scrap and rewrite until I thought I wrote it as best as I possibly could.
> 
> Also, the pronunciation of their head steward’s name is the American way, so with the S. Not the French one.
> 
> [This](https://www.express.com/clothing/women/berry-plaid-columnist-ankle-suit/ens/cat2130009) is the suit Robin is wearing to her meeting with Gareth and Tristan! [Here’s](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b5/e3/cd/b5e3cd1346a64b8a74945edd8bcf1bff.jpg) another picture of it, and really what I based her look off of :o
> 
> The next chapter of this may take a while to come out, with everything I have going on, PLUS I do want to write that Gaius/ Olivia companion piece for Ink and Moonshine, something that those of you who read my other fic can look forward to! Well, at least I didn’t end this chapter in a horrible cliffhanger xD
> 
> As usual, your kudos and comments are my lifeblood <3


	10. I Don’t Like It, I Love It Love It Love It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The easter egg I left in the last chapter was Robin throwing stuff at poor Chrom, who walked in on her in the shower, like in their B-Support!
> 
> Everything and nothing happens in this chapter. I feel like it’s going to be a common occurrence but that’s the kind of fic this thing is shaping up to be. Let me know too if you think it’s like that, where the chapter itself feels just a touch slow but so many things happen just the same, and between chapters time passes by at a reasonable pace? I’m not sure if I’m making sense xD
> 
> The title is a line from I Don’t Like It, I Love It by Flo Rida feat. Robin Thicke and Verdine White

Robin crossed her arms as she looked down at the pictures on her desk, humming. It wouldn’t be for a year yet but it never hurt to start looking at dress options for Olivia’s wedding. Time was going to be a scarce commodity going forward, she knew, and she’d do everything she could in the little time she had for that. Her best friend was getting married!

 

“Aren’t you coming to bed yet?”

 

Robin nearly jumped, looking up from her seat at her vanity.

 

“In a little while. I’m just looking at these sample sketches that Cherche sent me.”

 

Chrom peered over her shoulder, reaching out and picking up one of the sheets.

 

“Pretty. Are these what you’re considering for Gaius and Olivia’s wedding?” The one he picked was a sleeveless one shoulder piece, a lace belt cinching the material around the waist like a dress of a Grecian goddess, with a chiffon rosette on the front part of the single strap.

 

“Among others. Cherche was particularly motivated when she found out. She’s designing the dresses of the entourage.” Robin smiled, turning to look back down at the dresses.

 

“Come on. It’ll still be there in the morning. You should rest. It’s a busy week of preparations for our two day trip next week.” The prince smiled gently, pulling his hand away from her shoulder and offering it to help her stand instead.

 

It’s August now and she’s slowly starting to get in the rhythm of things, though Robin knows that they’re going to yank the training wheels soon. Still, the work she was doing at Read Along, and attending meetings with her husband and a couple of his speeches were doing her some good. At least when it came to expecting what kind of work she’d be doing moving forward.

 

“Okay.”

 

She took his hand and followed him to their bed, squeezing it lightly.

 

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He made sure they were both clean and comfortable and at least somewhat dressed when they finally drifted off to sleep. They’d both been much more intimate lately, the box of condoms tucked neatly at the back of his side table drawer, her blister pack of birth control hiding in plain sight along with a few other vitamins she took.

 

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“Think this is too casual?” Robin asked, posing in her black billowy strapless maxi dress, hands lifting the wide skirt up along the sides before letting it drop down to the floor.

 

“To visit Emmeryn, Liam, and Clair? No. Maybe you can wear a light jacket or something, they tend to have the air conditioning set cooler than we do.” Chrom tilted his head slightly, appraising the dress his wife had selected. “Maybe make it a little more form fitting?  What’s that thing you call it… When you put a belt around you.”

 

“Cinch the waist you mean?” Robin offered, tucking her hair behind her ear as she turned to look at her closet.

 

“Yeah, that.” Chrom crossed his arms, as though contemplating what to say next. “Just so you’re not giving the tabloid more fodder. You know how they are.”

 

“Mmm.” Robin brought out a thin muted gold leather belt, already having slid on a loose, knit blazer style lilac cardigan, the sleeves just skimming her wrists. She walked to the mirror and looped the leather around her waist, pulling it tight enough so that the fabric spilled over just a touch.

 

Every time Robin had gone out in something loose and easy, there was always speculation that she was pregnant. While they were sure that Sirius and Sofia wouldn’t mind their choice in delaying starting a family, the king and queen having waited a couple of years before trying themselves, they weren’t so sure the rest of Ylisse would be quite as understanding.

 

“I’m sorry you have to go through all this.” He leaned against the doorjamb, watching with a careful, but affectionate, gaze.

 

“It’s fine. I have to learn not to let every single thing someone says get to me anyway. It’s easier to do when it’s not said in my face.”

 

Chrom winced. She had mostly gotten over the incident with the Amers, but the sentiment lingered sometimes. To be fair to her, it was a touchy subject and she had been chosen because she made a good genetic match to him, her particularly useful Plegian links aside.

 

She turned with a slight flourish, arms outstretched.

 

“How do I look?”

 

Her smile was warm in sincere, brushing aside anything she may have possibly meant by bringing up his aunt and uncle.

 

“You just need shoes to complete the look.” Chrom laughed, eyes crinkling.

 

“Already have them set out.” She used her toes to point the shoes set by their sink, a pair of low block heels, black of course, a vintage floral pattern going around the entire upper and counter of the shoe.

 

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Robin stared at the piece of paper in her hands. Normally, she assumed this sort of thing meant she got a text or an email, or maybe even a call if it as particularly urgent, but she never got that sort of thing. Being in the royal family it meant she got a piece of paper instead. Or word from Cordelia or her husband, occasionally Frederick if she had some sort of lesson with him.

 

In her hands was a letter from her father-in-law, informing her of an upcoming opening ceremony where he would be most delighted if she accompanied him. Not that she could deny the king anyway. His private secretary had already likely confirmed with both Frederick and Cordelia her availability and unless she got sick, there was no way out of this. It wasn’t so much that she was afraid of Sirius, he had been more than congenial and accommodating towards her, but it was a terrifying prospect to do be alone with him at an official function.

 

Though she did realize at least she wasn’t being thrown to the sharks and that she wasn’t completely alone as a representative for the Crown just yet.

 

“Robin!”

 

The princess’ gaze snapped upwards, tearing her attention away from the letter to the slightly concerned face of her husband.

 

“Is there anything wrong? I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past couple of minutes.” Chrom frowned, sitting down beside her on their living room couch, reaching out to brush his fingers through her hair.

 

“No, no. I was just distracted.” She smiled weakly, leaning just a bit into his warm touch.

 

“So what is it then?”

 

His gaze fell on the envelope on her lap, the wax seal on the flap a familiar design.

 

“What does my father say?” He respected her privacy enough to know if his wife wanted to share it with him, she would. Otherwise, he’d respect her right and desire to keep it to herself.

 

“You know I went to the University of Ylisstol, right?”

 

Robin let the paper fall into her lap, leaning one arm along the edge of the couch, and covering the hand on her cheek with her much smaller one.

 

“Yeah. You majored in Linguistics, historical with a focus on comparative linguistics and etymology to be precise, and you also have a minor in Ylissean history. Quite the knack for studying I must say.”

 

“Very good.” Her eyes warmed as she watched Chrom’s chest puff out slightly.

 

“Go on,” he urged quietly, thumb running along her cheekbone.

 

“Well, it seems there’s an opening ceremony for a new building dedicated to diplomatic and political studies at the University,” she started slowly, gauging her husband’s reaction. “Since it’s state run, they thought it best if Father was to cut the ribbon, and he wants me to accompany him.”

 

“That’s it?” He laughed lightly, scooting forward a bit to close the gap between them, his free hand hooking behind her knees to drape her legs across his lap.

 

“What do you mean that’s it?” Robin frowned a little, confused at Chrom’s reaction.

 

“Sorry, I just thought it was something more worrisome.” He moved his face close to hers, the tips of their noses brushing.

 

“But it’s going to be my first time alone on official duties with the king!” Robin protested, about to lean back but his warm hand found its way to the back of her neck, keeping her in place. “Chrom… It’s a big deal to me.”

 

“I know but you’ll be fine. He won’t leave you hanging out to dry, not when you’re his favorite daughter-in-law.” He grinned cheekily, their lips barely an inch apart.

 

“I’m his only daughter-in-law,” she mumbled, warm and content in her husband’s gentle hold.

 

“Exactly. That’s why you’re his favorite.” He closed the gap between them, kissing her softly, Robin immediately melting in his arms, her worries flying away.

 

He was right. She was loved in this family and they did everything they could to make sure she never felt like the outcast or useless like she was sometimes prone to feeling.

 

“If it’s of any help, it means he trusts you to do a good job.” Chrom pulled apart just far enough to admire the pretty flush on her cheeks.

 

“Which is what exactly?”

 

“To give your insight on the speech he’s undoubtedly going to give, to mingle and converse with the other people there, to be a warm and friendly face among those who’d otherwise keep their distance.” He leaned forward and kissed her again, briefly this time, before leaning back just a little.

 

“Is that all?” She sounded a little dazed to herself.

 

“You’ll do a great job, I’m sure.” He smiled lazily, love and affection blooming in his chest.

 

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“Well, what do you think?” Robin squirmed in her seat, like a child waiting for her parents’ opinion on something important they just finished. “I’m not much of a speech writer but I hope I did a fairly good job.”

 

“It’s very well written, Ma’am, considering this is your first speech as a princess,” Cordelia offered kindly, handing the copy with her notes over to Robin. The blonde managed to suppress a wince at the number of corrections. “Please don’t worry about the number of comments I have. I can get carried away, but they’re mostly just suggestions to make the language a little less formal. Not too casual of course but we don’t want you to appear stiff and unapproachable.”

 

Robin nodded, reading through her private secretary’s notes. They were clear and concise and she could already imagine the edits she’d make. They weren’t so many that it was daunting, and most of what Cordelia had written were for the delivery, rather than the content. Phrasing and what words to stress did make a huge impact after all, in spoken language moreso than in written.

 

“I think I can finish these corrections within the day.” Robin smiled, setting down the papers off to one side.

 

“There’s no need to rush, Ma’am. You still have a few days and you’re not expected to memorize your address anyway.”

 

“I’m eager to anyway, and there’s not much else on my plate. I wanted it clear to make sure that I had more than enough to prepare.”

 

Cordelia nodded, rising to bow and make her way out of Robin’s office.

 

“Oh, Cordelia?”

 

The redhead stopped and made a half-turn, an inquiring look on her face.

 

“Let me know what time you’ll be free tomorrow up until the day before we leave. I’d like to practice my speech.”

 

“Yes, Ma’am. Of course.”

 

“Oh and when you’re done with your work, you can go home. I insist. I don’t think I’ll need anything from you.”

 

Cordelia blinked but nodded slowly, bowing, her lips turned up slightly.

 

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The drive to Eirene, one of the border cities near Plegia, was mercifully uneventful. They were on their way to visit the war memorial, to meet with some veterans from the war, and some of the still hospitalized or recovering soldiers. Robin always found it lamentable that one of the most war torn areas was the one named after peace. The war had been terrible during the times of previous kings, of Chrom’s ancestors, and it had slowly been contained to smaller and smaller places until they had formally ended it a few years after Emmeryn’s birth.

 

It was no small miracle that the rehabilitation of these areas, both in Ylisse and in Plegia, had been quickly completed. Still, despite the formal ending of the war, there were still some places where the fighting continued, where hungry and desperate people pillaged smaller, poverty stricken towns for food and shelter and clothing, Plegian and Ylissean both.

 

It was one of Chrom’s advocacies, having been involved in various military operations meant to suppress these outbreaks of violence, to find a way to provide for these people, whether his own or those from across the border, and help them stand on their own feet again. It was a small apology, he reasoned, given the political strife and the ambitions of his forebears, of Validar and his forebears as well, but it was a start. Robin took all this to heart when she wrote her speech. There was only so much, after all, she could learn from the books, and Chrom’s telling added nuance to what she already knew.

 

“Nervous?” Chrom covered her hand with his own, squeezing it lightly.

 

“I’m not really good with public speaking.” Robin laughed nervously, looking down at her lap, at their joined hands. “Ask me to prepare a plan on how to attack a problem, to research and learn everything there is to know about a certain topic, to give my comments or thoughts on something, I’ll jump at the chance, but to speak in public? I think that’s more your forte than it is mine.”

 

“I think you’ll be good at it. Maybe not as good as me but… passable.” His deep blue eyes twinkled with mirth, trying to lighten the mood.

 

“Sure, I’ll settle for being half as good as my wonderfully talented and perfect husband.” Robin shoved him gently with her free hand, a smile on her lips.

 

“I’m just stroking my own ego, but if it makes you laugh, well then that’s hitting two birds with one stone!” He grinned wolfishly, leaning forward and kissing her lightly on the cheek. “You’ll be fine. Your speech is great and heartfelt and you. Just breathe and if you’re struggling, look for one of us in the audience to ground you.”

 

“Okay.” She leaned against his shoulder, eyes closing, putting her other hand on top of his as she let her thoughts drift to her speech.

 

She wrote about how even though the war has long since been over but she recognizes that there are still places that are in the process of healing, of trying to get out from under the rubble and stand tall and proud. She wrote that everything they have and are today is because of the people who made the greatest sacrifice in the name of country, protecting those whom they loved.

 

She wrote that despite age old division, everyone should work together to move on from the troubled mess of the past and everyone should come together in their shared humanity to bring a better future for the generations to come, even though the work isn’t always going to be easy and that life isn’t always going to be so kind. In fact, it is because of these difficulties that everyone should move forward so that no one would ever experience the hurt and the loss from war.

 

Though her experience was nothing compared to fighting and giving up one’s life for country, she could see a sliver of it in her own life. She counted herself very lucky that she married a man who loved her and would move mountains just to see her smile, but she could have easily been married to a man who thought nothing of her and was husband only in name, and would have her carry his children if only to have legal heirs.

 

Robin twisted herself in her seat to look up at Chrom, almost like she was inspecting him.

 

“What?” He laughed, draping his free arm across her shoulders.

 

“I was just thinking how lucky I am, that the one I got to marry and grow to love is a caring and honorable man, full of love and the passion to do the right thing.” She lifted herself slightly and kissed his cheek, glad to have used lipstick that didn’t transfer easily, before leaning her head back down on his shoulder. She flipped the hand underneath his, interlocking their fingers together, the other one firm on top of the back of his hand.

 

“Really? You think too much of me,” he whispered softly, leaning his head on top of hers. “To be honest, I think _I’m_ the lucky one.”

 

“And why is that?” Robin asked, genuinely confused. What did she ever bring to the table in this marriage? She had been selected from a number of candidates and the council had expected them to marry afterwards, no ifs and buts about it. The fact that they had a year between their official engagement and their marriage was a small blessing, not that they had spent much time getting to know each other in those twelve months but at least she hadn’t been thrown to the wolves.

 

“That my wife turned out to be forthright and genuine, whip smart and unable to settle down until she was doing something good for the country, that she’s honest with me and can bring herself to say what’s on her mind even though most people would hold back because of my position.”

 

Robin blushed at his words.

 

“Well, most of the time she can be honest with her feelings.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“I’m just kidding.” Chrom laughed, pulling her closer to him as the car started to slow down. “But I meant everything I said. You know that, right?”

 

She squeezed his hand in reply.

 

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“Certainly looks like a good day today, Your Royal Highnesses.”

 

Chrom nodded, holding his wife’s hand as they followed the director of the war memorial. Attached to it was a museum and a hospital, fully funded by the state, and nearby subsidized housing for veterans who have completed their service.

 

“I hope the drive over was well enough?” She turned around with a smile, her pale blonde hair lightly streaked with gray.

 

“Yes Ma’am.” Chrom smiled and nodded, looking around the well-tended garden near the monument they were going to.

 

“Ma’am? Please, you’re no longer an active member of the army and your position far outranks mine, Ylisstol.”

 

Chrom used his father’s territorial as his surname, if only to make things easier. His peers and superiors would have difficulty calling him by his first name, given their deference to the royal family and their popularity, so it was easier calling him by the surname he used whenever one was necessary.

 

“Sorry, Helene, force of habit.” He scratched the back of his, laughing a little nervously. She had been one of his training officers, and he had served under her command for more than a handful of missions, and it made him happy to see her still doing something that involved the military. After he had left, Helene had been tasked to lead a reconnaissance mission and ended up becoming gravely injured by an IED and had been forced to resign her commission. Though she looked fine by all appearances, injuries to her legs and shoulders made it impossible for her to carry out tasks as expected of a soldier, finishing out her service commitment behind a desk before relenting to an honorable discharge.

 

“What was Chrom like in Pallas? And Lon’qu! The two of them never talk about it much.” All Robin knew was that they served together after studying in the Royal Military Academy at Pallas, that there was mutual respect between the two of them, and that Lon’qu had followed Chrom out of the military and into his security service and was now her personal bodyguard, but not much else.

 

“They were the worst, Ma’am.” Helene laughed, tucking in a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

 

“Hey!”

 

Robin grinned, amused at the redness of her husband’s cheeks, and the indignation on his face.

 

“They were some of the best soldiers I’d ever trained. I was sorry to see them go when they did, but your husband is the crown prince so we never expected him to be in active service for very long. Too much of a risk. What I didn’t expect was for him to somehow convince Lon’qu to leave as well and get him to head his security.”

 

There was a slightly bitter tone in Helene’s voice, almost like she resented the prince for stealing Lon’qu away. She had plans for him, to have him follow her up the ranks because he was a trusted soldier, one she could count on to watch her back, but of course the future was never set and he had witnessed a terrible strike on a women’s refugee camp their unit had often been sent to, and one of the girls he’d gotten rather close and friendly with was killed right in front of his eyes.

 

“I did nothing of the sort. You know why Lon’qu wanted to leave. I only offered him continuity in something he wanted to do because he was good at it.” Chrom’s voice had an unusually hard edge to it, like he was holding back. It wasn’t so much that he was embarrassed about Lon’qu’s issues but they weren’t his to tell.

 

“Yes and I’m sorry it happened that way, but I’m glad to see he’s managed to work on it, given his position now in your retinue.”

 

“Does this have something to do with his gy—”

 

Chrom nodded and cut her off, squeezing her hand more tightly in response. After all, the man in question was just a few paces behind them and it was beneath them, anyone really, to talk about him in that manner.

 

“Well, I am sorry to have spoiled the otherwise good mood, but here we are.” Helene pointed to the tented space near the marble obelisk, the names of the fallen soldiers carved along the sides of it. “Best we part here so we can finalize our preparations.”

 

“Thank you, Helene.” Chrom’s voice didn’t have that hard edge anymore, his former training officer nodding before briskly making her way towards the group of people congregating by the arranged seats.

 

Lon’qu was quiet during the entire exchange, but his lips were pressed into a thin line. Of course Robin knew about his gynophobia, most people did, but it was different talking about how it even came to be. From the corner of his eye, he saw Cordelia look away, embarrassed at having been caught staring at him.

 

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Robin clasped her hands together, palms sweaty, as she stayed off to one side, waiting for things to settle down and the program to start. Chrom was busy talking to a few select veterans who had been invited to attend the event, listening to their war stories and their thoughts about the state of Ylissean and Plegian relations.

 

“Ma’am?”

 

“Yes?” Robin looked up towards Cordelia, her private secretary’s face calm and collected despite the concern in her voice.

 

“Everything will be fine. We’ve gone through this.”

 

“Can…” Robin swallowed, wondering if it was appropriate to ask this of Cordelia.

 

“Can I what?”

 

“Can you stay somewhere in my line of sight when I look up? I think it’ll help my nerves if you do that. Chrom is going to be seated behind me.” She bit her lower lip but refused to turn her gaze downwards.

 

“Of course. I’ll be right over there.” Cordelia smiled as she pointed out the section in the very back where she’d be standing.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“My pleasure, Ma’am.”

 

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The entire time Robin was speaking, Cordelia had a small smile plastered on her face. The princess started a little shaky (the mic acting up certainly not helping any). She was doing well by all accounts, nervous laughter here and there but genuine responses all around. Her speech looked like it was being received well, if the few teary eyes and slow nods were any indication.

 

“Thank you. I don’t believe I’ve ever said that.”

 

Cordelia turned to look up at her companion, ignoring the distance between them. She understood not only Lon’qu’s need for personal space, but his aversion to being physically close to any women. It wasn’t anything personal.

 

“For what?”

 

She managed to hide the surprise on her face, not expecting a response. Or the fact that her world seemed to zone in on Lon’qu, like she was fascinated.

 

“For all your work and sacrifice. I know it isn’t easy working for the royal family, but moments like this?” She gestured towards Robin, and the proud Chrom behind her. “Moments like this are what make it all worthwhile I think.”

 

“He… he’s a good friend, checked in on me after the incident, and offered me this job without even blinking, and that he was glad that Robin chose me because he wouldn’t trust anyone else to guard his wife. Not to say everyone else hired for their security would do a bad job but he doesn’t know them like he knows me.”

 

Cordelia was surprised at how forthcoming Lon’qu was being, and the fact that this was the most she’s heard him speak. Their conversations were usually clipped and to the point.

 

“Well, if you ever need any help in discharging your duties, you can always come to me.” She smiled, genuine as always, before turning her gaze back towards Robin.

 

“Hm.”

 

“Did you say anything?” She looked back at Lon’qu but found him facing forward, stoic as always. Frowning, she started to shift her gaze back to the front but suddenly stopped, noting that the physical distance between them had gotten just a little bit smaller.

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The speech was a rousing success, a good sign for the rest of their two day visit. At the end of it, Robin had been so overwhelmed with how well and how happy they were to receive her, and Chrom was content to watch from behind the scenes and let his wife take center stage.

 

The papers were filled with glowing reviews on her speech and how she had carried herself for her first official visit alongside her husband, all previous ones she had only been there to accompany and observe.

 

She was exhausted by the time they arrived back home, like all the stress and tension had finally drained away. They had planned an afternoon ride through the gardens, something Chrom was sure that Phoebus and Argent would enjoy as well, but for now he was content to watch over his wife sleeping in his arms, as he ran his fingers through her hair. His eyes softened and his smile grew wider when she burrowed herself into his arms, like there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

 

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Robin stepped out of the car, nervous, holding her clutch with one hand and tucking her hair back behind her ear. She reasoned with herself that she didn’t actually have anything to be nervous about, she wasn’t presenting anything or expected to say anything outside of small talk and greeting different professors and some distinguished alumni. She still didn’t really know what her role was accompanying her father-in-law, except perhaps to look pretty behind him and smile, but even that was proving to be a challenge.

 

“A little nervous?” Sirius smiled kindly, offering his arm out to her, his eyes twinkling.

 

“More than just a little,” she replied honestly, hooking her arm around his gratefully.

 

He patted the back of her hand as they started to walk through the campus. It was a nice day out and he liked the little bit of exercise he could get, even if his security detail didn’t.

 

“What am I supposed to do here anyway?” She hoped she didn’t sound ungrateful or annoyed. Sirius could have very well gone through the day’s activities by himself, without her dragging him down, or if he really wanted company, he could have asked any other family member.

 

“Keep me company in the midst of all the people who’d be too afraid to even string two sentences together, for starters!” He laughed, joking, his smile big and warm and comforting. Robin liked the king’s smile; it reminded her of her husband’s. “You’ve already helped me a great deal by listening to my speech and making it less stuffy and boring.”

 

“It was never stuffy and boring to begin with!”

 

“Perhaps but alas, I’ve gotten used to giving more formal, rigid speeches to parliament.” He looked down at her. “I listened to your speech at Eirene and I wanted to give it the same sort of flair, that warmth that drew everyone in.”

 

Robin blushed at his praise, looking down at the path in front of them, her heels clacking rhythmically against the pavement.

 

“And besides, this appearance of yours with me sends out a statement.” The king’s voice turned serious.

 

“Statement? What kind?”

 

“It took almost a year before Liam had a solo appearance with me on official duties. Not to say I favor him less but I found he needed more time to settle into the role and get more comfortable.”

 

While the king showed preferential treatment for his son as dictated by law and tradition, that there was a certain privilege that came with being the monarch’s heir, it was a well-known fact that he loved his children equally, and now his son- and daughter-in-law as well.

 

“But it only took about four months from me marrying your son to accompany you on official duties, alone.” Robin’s voice was scarcely above a whisper.

 

“I think you’re more suited to this kind of role, subtle diplomacy and maneuvering your way in promoting good relations and keeping people in line without causing too much of a stir.” Sirius looked down at his daughter-in-law briefly, only to catch the tips of her ears turning red.

 

“I probably need practice with that last one. I’ve let my emotions get the better of me twice already. I’m lucky it didn’t cause too much of a scene and create some scandal,” she mumbled weakly, gripping the king’s arm a little more tightly.

 

“Perhaps, but I wouldn’t say I would have been able to react differently or better were I in your place. Robin, my dear, they were both slights to your person and you are quite popular with our people. It seems to me most would have taken your side and would have understanding. I won’t pretend that there aren’t those who think that you should have just bowed your head meekly and followed what was said to you, but you were most certainly not in the wrong.”

 

She looked up at Sirius with wide, awestruck eyes.

 

“I have it on good authority the king was rather angry at the other party in both occasions, and let his displeasure be known.” He winked at her and grinned.

 

“T-thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say.

 

“Think nothing of it. You are family and I will do everything in my power to protect all who are a part of it.”

 

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Robin sucked in a breath when she saw the building, the Marth Institute of Political Science and International Affairs, named after one of the most famous ancestors of the royal family. It seemed apt, considering what department the building was going to house and the multiple short courses it had for politics, economics, diplomacy, and even military affairs to an extent, on an international level. The building was grand but not gaudy at all, the classical design of the Doric order influences making it almost an anachronism of sorts, but the sleeker, more modern lines hidden behind the columns pulling it back to the present. It was a welcome addition to the university, various renovation and construction projects at full speed with the recent focus of the government to divert the freed up military funds to education and healthcare.

 

“Well, campus doesn’t look like how you remembered it to be, hm?” The dean of the college of social sciences smiled kindly at Robin, one of her former professors. “It’s only been a few years since you’ve graduated but we’ve spruced up the place a little.”

 

“Yes Sir. I see you’ve spared no expense either with the flowers and refreshments for those in attendance.” Robin returned the smile, pressing her clutch firmly against her stomach. “It’s late but congratulations on being appointed dean. It’s funny because you told me how much you hate paperwork but you’ve always had some sort of administrative role, even well before I entered the department.”

 

“I’m not the only one suffering with paperwork! I dragged Miriel along too.” His kind, green eyes sparkled with mischief. “She regrets being unable to attend this ceremony, even though this isn’t her department, but she would have liked to see you and catch up even a little bit. The two of you worked so well together that I always thought that after you got tired of life on the other side, you’d come back here and teach. We knew you would have made a wonderful teacher.”

 

“Life doesn’t turn out the way we expect it to, but I can’t say that I wasn’t thinking of that before all this happened.” The back of Robin’s neck warmed, not from the sun gently streaming down (an odd but welcome change from the typical bright and scorching August day). “But kindly pass my regards to her please, professor? I’m actually working with two of her former students which set up a foundation focused on increasing literacy rates among underprivileged children and teenagers.”

 

“Ah yes! Miriel did mention something about having met with Gareth and Tristan recently, and how happy and excited they are to work with you.”

 

“You know them Sir?” Robin tilted her head slightly, eyes flicking over to where her father-in-law was standing before focusing her gaze entirely on the dean.

 

“They weren’t my students, no, but they did reach out to us and ask if we could let them advertise their need for volunteers for all sorts of things, training, curriculum development, teaching.” He reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder, unaware, or at least unafraid, of the sharp gaze of Lon’qu behind her. “It makes an old man incredibly proud to know of students from the university going out and doing good in the world, however they possibly can.”

 

Robin blushed, smiling goofily as she placed her hand on top of his. She always loved Professor Donohue and imagined that’s what it was like to have a grandfather in her life. She was thankful for his friendship and mentoring, like she was with Miriel’s, and that the department became some sort of a home for her where they were more concerned with her merit than with her heritage.

 

“Ah, I see you’re well acquainted with the dean.”

 

The princess nearly jumped, a little embarrassed at having been caught unawares of her father-in-law approaching.

 

“Yes, Sir. Professor Donohue was my teacher for most of my subjects for my minor.” Robin bowed her head slightly, releasing her hold on her teacher and clasping her hands in front of her.

 

“She reminded me very much of you when you were my student.” The dean smiled kindly as he bowed a little stiffly. “Ah, forgive me Your Majesty but these bones aren’t as young as they used to be.”

 

“You are more than excused, old friend.” Sirius smiled, reaching out to help steady his teacher as he stood up straight.

 

“But, I thought you went to Pallas like Chrom?”

 

“I did, but we had civilian professors as well. Completing higher education at Pallas not only ensures you have excellent officer training, but that you graduate with an academic degree as well,” Sirius explained, pleased at the interest showing on his daughter-in-law’s face. “Although most graduates of any of Ylisse’s military academies often serve in our armed forces for about eight to ten years, we recognize that not everyone will want a lifelong career in the military, so we include ways to reintegrate them back into civilian society. But as heir to the crown at the time, and as Chrom is now, we served for a much shorter period of time, normally from the time we graduate up until we marry.”

 

“Yes and I remember you being quite the academic as well. Had you not been next in line to the throne, I would have encouraged your curiosity and hoped that you become a teacher.”

 

“What was your degree in, if I may be so bold to ask?”

 

“Political Science and International Affairs, as to be expected.”

 

“Like Chrom’s,” she commented absent-mindedly. It made sense, considering their positions, even if they had no power in government. Still, the royal family played an important role in maintaining friendly relations with other countries and worked tirelessly to promote the welfare of Ylisse, despite the limitations set by parliament.

 

“I had a number of history classes with Professor Donohue, at the insistence of my own father. There is much to learn from history so that we may never repeat its mistakes. I made sure that Chrom had classes as well but alas, the good professor was no longer associated with Pallas by then.”

 

“Old bones and increasing work here at Ylisstol made it difficult you see.” The dean’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “Now, enough reminiscing about the past. We have a building to open.”

 

The king and the princess both looked at each other with amusement in their eyes before turning to look back at their teacher.

 

“Yes Sir.”

 

Professor Donohue laughed, as deep and rich and warm as ever, before shaking his head and leading the way to the podium.

 

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“The foreign secretary is here to see you now, Ma’am.”

 

Cordelia stood by the doorjamb, hands clasped in front of her.

 

“Let him in.”

 

Robin swallowed the lump in her throat as she straightened her seat. Things have since settled between them but this was the first time they would work together, and only because of the unique nature of the upcoming visit of the Plegian delegation.

 

“Your Royal Highness. Secretary Hall.”

 

“Good afternoon, Your Royal Highness.” He bowed slightly, as much as the documents in his arms would allow anyway.

 

“Please, take a seat.”

 

Robin gestured to the chair across her desk, which he took gratefully. He had a handsome face and a slightly hooked nose, pleasing and well built. Whenever she saw Wyatt Hall in the news, she always thought that he was charming and had good conversational skills, though their first official meeting left much to be desired.

 

“My staff has been working in close coordination with yours about the matter of your brother’s stay. I do apologize it’s taken us some time to finalize everything but as you can imagine, this is a very unique circumstance we find ourselves in.” He set the papers down on her desk, pulling out the top folder and sliding it across to her. “We tried to keep the schedule of His Royal Highness as lean as possible, so that there would be more than enough time for him to spend at his pleasure, though we do hope to convince him to take on just a few more meetings.”

 

“And you’d like me to convince him to take them?” She peered over the folder, looking straight at him.

 

“If you would be so kind.” He dipped his head down slightly, ears and the back of his neck red with embarrassment.

 

“I’ll try my best.”

 

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

 

Grima had been impatient about the visit, wanting to come sooner but Robin had insisted he wait. The dog days of Ylissean summer could be difficult, even though she had no doubt her brother was more than used to the heat. It was precisely because of that she wanted him to come when temperatures started to cool.  She thought he might enjoy seeing the leaves change, to walk in the parks and open spaces of Thallo Palace and the private outdoor spaces of their apartments and even those in Ylisstol Castle.

 

“Winery tours?”

 

“Yes Ma’am. Your husband was gracious enough to inform us that Prince Grima is trying to develop a wine industry so we thought that perhaps sharing some of our knowledge, and maybe some of our crops, could strengthen ties economic ties and increase good will between us.”

 

“He’d like that.” Robin smiled, picking up a pen and writing out some comments on the margins of the page.

 

“I’m glad you agree.”

 

Wyatt leaned back, smiling as he watched the young princess look through the rest of the itinerary. Granted this was a rare and unusual occasion that their offices would work together, he’d since realized the charm and wit of the future queen before him, especially with recent news of her performance in Eirene and the grace with which she carried herself on her first official engagement alone with the king. He always regretted the circumstances of their first meeting and hated how he let himself be used that way, despite the good intentions of their request, to put it kindly, to have her go to Plegia.

 

“Ma’am?”

 

“Yes?” Her hand hovered across the page.

 

“For whatever it is worth, I sincerely apologize for my words and actions when we asked you to go to Plegia to smooth things over with your brother, because it was easier to have you do it instead of doing my job.”

 

Robin blinked, surprised at his admission, but grateful just the same.

 

“I understand you were in a panic and wanted things to be solved as quickly as possible.” She pursed her lips tightly, choosing her next words carefully. “But next time, just ask. If it is within my power to do so, I will do whatever I can in service of Ylisse.”

 

“You are much too kind, Ma’am.” Wyatt laughed, shaking his head, amazed at how a woman suddenly thrust into public life held herself.

 

“Just reasonable, is all I ask. Though this life was not something I imagined for myself, I realize I am far luckier than most and can only do my best in return.” Robin smiled gently, tucking her hair behind her ear.

 

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Robin collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. The past month was a whirlwind of activities and it was only now that things were starting to settle down. At least for a little while until her brother came to visit next month.

 

“That’s rather unladylike of you,” Chrom commented, putting down his phone and setting it on the side table.

 

“Leave me alone, I’m tired,” Robin grumbled, her words muffled with her face pressed the way it was against the mattress, blindly reaching for a pillow. Gripping the corners, she threw it at her husband, or where she assumed he’d be but only to meet more mattress.

 

The prince laughed, leaning up and hoisting his wife up, setting her down by his side.

 

“But you wouldn’t have it any other way?” He turned to kiss her temple as she settled down against him, head resting on his shoulder.

 

“As exhausting as it is, being expected to act a certain way and have everyone’s eyes on you and their guard up every time you enter a room, I wouldn’t have it any other way. It means far too much to me to be able to make a difference in this world.”

 

Chrom smiled again, kissing the top of her head before leaning against his wife as well, their hands intertwined, resting on the space between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason why I chose that lyric for this chapter’s title is that even though Robin is being put through her paces with all the work she’s doing, and even if it’s tiring, she loves the sense of fulfillment that comes along with it.
> 
> To continue my theme of naming things after something from Greek mythology, I named the city Chrom and Robin visited after [Eirene](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eirene_\(goddess\)), one of the Horae and the personification of peace. The director of the war memorial, [Helene](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amazons), is named for one of the Amazons. The military academy that Sirius and Chrom went to is named after [Pallas](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pallas_\(Titan\)), the Titan god of Warcraft and the springtime campaign season. The new school building that they have the opening ceremony for is named after Marth, obviously, since he’s a canon ancestor of Chrom. Also, I imagined the building to have some ancient Greek influences, I looked up the architectural styles of the times and found the [Doric order](http://www.ancientgreece.com/s/Art/) to fit best. The Parthenon is supposed to be the zenith of the Doric order, or so Wikipedia says.
> 
> As for that story with Lon’qu, I took inspiration with how he canonically developed his gynophobia and worked it into this as naturally as I could. I didn’t actually expect to write this bit out at all but it came out and it grounded this chapter just a little bit more.
> 
> Lastly, I have no idea why but for some reason, I imagine the [foreign secretary](https://pmctvline2.files.wordpress.com/2017/08/jay-harrington.jpg?w=620&h=419&crop=1) to look like Jay Harrington. Especially after I decided to name him Wyatt. Maybe because Jay Harrington played a character on Private Practice named Wyatt Lockhart ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> As usual, your kudos and comments are my lifeblood <3


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